Silver Wings, Silver Tongue
by Magic Of Every Kind
Summary: She is the jailer's daughter; plain, crippled, and doomed to spend her life as a shadow. He is a God; powerful, deadly, and sentenced to a life behind bars. No friendship, no trust, just a simple jailer and prisoner relationship. That is, until Thanos decides Loki must pay for his failures...
1. Market Day

**Post-Avengers FanFiction set in Asgard. Mainly Loki-centric with a fair amount of Thor. Main character is an OC (but not your everyday kind...trust me).**

**This story owes it's existence to Rose. You know who you are, gal...this is as much for me as it is for you :D  
**

**I would _love_ to hear what you think of it...and you should know that the more reviews I get...the more I'm inspired to write...the more you'll be able to read! Chain reaction, folks, with only the best consequences :)  
**

It was market day in the poorest part of Asgard. Servants and lesser Gods alike gathered to barter and sell their wares, each hoping to steadily climb the ladder of hierarchy through wealth and fortune. Stallholders were in competition with one another to see who could shout the loudest and thereby obtain the most customers. People milled around lazily, it was lunch hour and a break for most, so hanging around the market place was what most people chose to do with the little freedom they had.

A lone figure weaved through the crowds, heading for the baker's stall that stood just outside the bakery. They walked with an obvious limp that made their gait uneven, but they seemed to manage well enough with the flaw, navigating the stalls with care. The baker looked up as they approached and smiled in recognition,

"Leya, how may I help you today?" The girl smiled at him. Looks-wise, she wasn't much to admire. Her hair was a muddy brown tied up into a tight bun, her eyes were a similar shade of brown, and she had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose like paint. She would have been almost decent, were it not for her limp.

"Just the usual please, Alfred," she told the baker. Her voice, at least, was warm and honeyed, like sweetened milk. The man nodded and packed away two medium sized bread rolls, then slipped in a glazed bun with a cherry on the top.

"Happy birthday, Leya," he winked, handing her the bag. The girl smiled, looking flustered,

"Thank you, Alfred." She tried to hand him money but he refused,

"They're on me." Leya gaped slightly,

"Are you sure? Even for the rolls?" The baker shook his head firmly, then turned away to deal with another customer, a smile playing about his lips. Leya, realising her defeat, walked away happy and relieved. She hadn't as much money as usual since one of the guests had demanded fresh strawberries this morning. But now, she was in credit thanks to the free rolls and bun, leaving her enough money for cheese and a little to save.

Heading to the cheesemonger's stall, she bought some of the cheap cheddar they had to accompany her rolls. She'd just go and visit Erika before going to eat by the lake.

She found the old woman in her usual spot under the oak tree, tucked away from most stalls. Erika smiled as Leya approached,

"Happy birthday, Leya," she spoke aloud. Leya smiled gently, noting the way the woman's eyes were pointed in her direction, but remained unseeing.

"Thank you, Erika," she replied, touching the woman's wrinkled hand briefly in thanks.  
"Do you see that necklace there?" Erika pointed vaguely to the right of her stall. It was an assortment of trinkets and antiques that few people bought, but Leya had always stopped to admire them and grown attached to the elderly woman.

"The one with the dove," Erika clarified. Leya saw the one she meant and smiled sadly. It was a necklace she'd always admired, though it was simple in beauty. It depicted a lone dove, silver in colour, with wings spread in mid-flight as it stretched towards the heavens. For some reason, it reminded Leya of the mother she had never known.

"Give it to me," Erika asked and Leya did so carefully.

"Now give me your hand." Brow furrowed slightly, Leya complied. The woman gently opened Leya's hand and put the necklace into it.

"Happy birthday, Leya," she repeated. Leya's eyes widened as she realised what she meant,

"No no, I can't take this," she exclaimed.

"Take it," Erika told her, withdrawing her hands.

"But I haven't the money," Leya protested, "it is far too precious." Indeed, for all its simplicity, the dove could well be a pure precious metal, maybe even silver, and far beyond her daily or even weekly allowance.

"It is a gift," Erika said calmly, "a present." Leya smiled shyly, noting the way the woman had purposefully withdrawn her hands.

"Erika, thank you," she said sincerely, clasping the woman's hand and giving it a squeeze of gratitude.

All of a sudden, there was a cry from the main square. Leya looked around,

"What is it?" Erika asked, her ears well tuned for her age.

"I don't know," Leya murmured, frowning as a young man leapt on top of the central fountain.

"Good citizens of Asgard," he cried in a loud voice that carried far and wide, "rejoice! For Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, heir to the throne and future King of Asgard, has returned!" There was widespread murmuring at this, but the man had not finished, "and know also that Loki, God of Magic, has also returned to face Asgardian justice for his invasion of Midgard." The muttering increased in volume at this as people turned to exchange gossip with their neighbour.

"Thank the Allfather Thor has returned safe and well."

"Loki Odinson?"

"No, didn't you here? He was disowned!"

"Invasion of Midgard...who would do such a thing?"

Leya turned back to Erika, not bothering to relay information as she knew the woman had heard.

"What do you make of that, Leya?" Erika asked, her unseeing eyes strangely direct. Leya shrugged nonchalantly,

"I am pleased that Thor Odinson has returned in good health, though I cannot say the same for the other." Erika nodded,

"Loki is a liesmith and a trickster, you would do well to be wary of him, my child." Leya nodded, frowning,

"What do you think will happen to him?"

"He has disgraced the Allfather and Asgard, at the very least you can expect another guest in your care by the end of the day," Erika warned her. Leya sighed,

"Great, that's just what we need," she muttered sarcastically, "more guests."

"Do not fret," Erika assured her, "he may yet receive the ultimate punishment." Leya gave her a curious look,

"Do you really believe that?"

"I cannot say," the blind woman answered. Leya mulled it over for a moment, then shrugged,

"Whatever happens, life still goes on."

"Indeed," Erika muttered in agreement. Leya smiled,

"Well, I best get going." She turned to walk away.

"Leya?" She stopped and turned on the spot to find the woman looking at her with a serious look carved into her brow. Erika pointed to the necklace Leya had left on the edge of the stall and the girl shifted guiltily.

"It is a gift, Leya, do not be afraid to accept it," the woman told her kindly. A little reluctantly, Leya took the necklace and slipped it into the safety of her purse.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, and Erika smiled, nodding once. With that, Leya turned and walked away back into the main market, quickly forgetting the arrival of the two princes as the thought of the necklace. But little did she know just how much the prince's arrival would affect her, changing both her and her life in fundamental ways and ultimately carving her future into stone. For better or for worse was yet to be found out.

**What do you think happened to Loki when Thor returned him to Asgard? This story's how I think it went...but I'd still love to hear how you imagine things!**

**Thank you for reading, and please know that I genuinely love every person who reviews/follows/favourites my work :)**


	2. A Royal Summon

**Thank you to everyone who has followed/favourited this story...because of your love I proudly present Chapter 2!**

Leya and her father's assistant, Rolf, were doing the late afternoon rounds for the guests when the front door banged open and a man burst in.

"Father!" Leya exclaimed, handing her tray of drinks to Rolf who took it wordlessly. Running over to the man, she gave him a look of concern.

"Whatever's the matter?" she asked with a frown. Her father, a man of advanced years with greying hair and a beard, bent over as he tried to catch his breath.

"We've been...summoned...to the...palace," he gasped lightly. Leya's eyebrows shot up in surprise,

"The palace?" she echoed. Her father nodded and straightened up, coughing slightly to clear his throat.

"They've sent a carriage. We must leave at once. Are you dressed decently?" he asked, his eyes flicking over her worriedly. Leya looked down at her dress. It was a faded green with no decoration and a simple v-neck design that went over her under-dress.

"This is my nicest dress," she murmured truthfully. Her other dresses were brown or grey or navy, this was her smartest dress. She'd donned it for her birthday, but no-one seemed to have noticed. Her father nodded absently,

"Good, than we must be away," he looked around her, "Rolf, can I trust you to take care of everything until we have retuned?" The mute boy nodded solemnly and dipped his head politely. Leya smiled at him in thanks.

"Where are you going, janitor?" called one of the guests, peering through the door to their room.

"To the palace, my lord," Leya's father replied, "we shall be back as soon as we are dismissed."

"The palace?" another guest came to their door, "oh, I say, give my regards to the Lady Sif should you see her."

"Very good, my lady. Come, Leya," the man gestured and Leya obediently followed him out of the building.

Outside they found a small carriage waiting. Nothing too grand, just an open topped cart, but with the palace insignia, a coachman and two fine horses to lead it. Leya's father helped her in, only with slight difficulty due to her limp, and as soon as they were both settled the carriage set off.

Leya glanced at her father and noted how pale he was under his bushy beard. His eyes were darting everywhere and his fingers drummed an irregular beat on his knee. Slowly, Leya placed a hand over her father's and squeezed gently. He flashed her the briefest smile and squeezed back before resuming his tapping. Sighing inwardly, Leya looked ahead and wondered why they might have been summoned to the palace.

Her father, Bjorn, was the janitor for the Asgardian Jail, though Jail was perhaps not the right word for it. All the 'prisoners' were nobles or those of middle to upper class who had committed minor crimes and had been sentenced for a month or so. For an immortal, this was no time at all, but the system ensured they had everything they could want while behind bars. Everything, except their freedom, but that always came around with time anyway. There was another jail, further away from the city, for the working class. Leya had never been, but from what she'd heard it was far much more a typical jail than theirs. Their establishment was more of a hotel, and each 'guest' got their own room complete with facilities and round the clock care. Still, that didn't answer the question of why they'd been summoned to the palace. Then Leya remembered the arrival of the princes earlier...could that be something to do with it, perhaps?

They lived not too far from the palace, so in next to no time they had already arrived. Leya's father was shaking slightly, but managed to remain upright as they were led towards the throne hall. Leya herself was focusing all her strength on not limping, trying to walk as she'd seen ladies do. She'd never been to the palace before, and its grandeur astounded even her of great imagination. Columns that 10 men could not encircle stretched high into the heavens, and gold leaf seemed to be scattered everywhere like dust. The floor was marble, polished to a dazzling shine, and the guards shoes clicked against it in a methodic beat.

They were shown to a side door and told to wait, and Leya swallowed, risking another glance at her father. He was still pale, but had composed himself accordingly and Leya gave him a small smile. He returned it in a twitching manner before brushing himself down and checking for creases. Leya looked down at herself and touched her hair. There was no more she could do for herself.

The doors opened and they were lead in.

Of course, this was not the grand entrance and came out to the side of the hall, with the throne on the left. Others were present, and Leya gasped slightly.

Guards stood about the room, more than she felt necessary, but they were not who caught her gaze. Four beings in particular called for her attention. Two stood before the throne, men who Leya recognised to be the great Thor and Loki. Beside the throne stood Frigga, the wife of Odin, and atop the throne itself...Odin Allfather. Leya felt as if she should cower in awe or fright, she knew not which. He wore armour of gold, his white hair long and signalling his great age, and one eye was covered by a triangle of gold. The aura that emanated from him was enough to make the strongest God tremble, such strength was it that came from him, shining out like the light from the sun itself. Truly he was the most powerful being in all the nine realms.

His wife, Frigga, emanated an aura of quiet dignity, a gentler feel but one that seemed to reflect, in part, that of her husband. The two men before the throne could only be Gods too, from the auras that surrounded them. Thor, the bigger of the two, wore armour complete with a cloak of fine red silk, his hair blond and falling to his shoulders. In his hand he clasped a massive hammer and Leya's eyes widened in recognition. Mjolnir, the legendary hammer of Thor. Leya felt a tremble threaten to sweep through her as she saw it, but then she saw Thor's eyes. They were blue and bright, with a candid strength to them that marked him as a gentle giant.

The other man was an altogether different person, and Leya swallowed nervously at the sight of him. He was tall and pale and looked deceptively weak compared to Thor. His attire was battered and his features marred as if he'd been in a battle, his raven black hair slightly unkempt as it swept over his head in sleek ebony waves. His hands were cuffed before him, and to Leya's surprise he wore a muzzle like a common dog. The aura about him was one of defeat, and her heart went out to him. But then his eyes flicked up, meeting hers for the briefest second, and her heart clenched with fear. A pit of ice cold green stared back at her, freezing her with their intensity as they cried out of their bottomless depths. Here was a being who knew no compassion, no love, no mercy, a cold blooded killer. Indeed, there was a fever to his eyes that Leya saw even within that brief second, a flicker of the beast within. Her heart retracted, fearful of his lack of feeling.

Leya and her father were led to within several metres of the throne, only a few feet from the princes themselves. Bjorn bowed low and Leya attempted a curtsy. The movement was made difficult by her limp and she stumbled slightly, just righting herself in time. Her cheeks flushed red with shame at her fault and she looked down, thanking her stars that her father would do all the talking.

"Bjorn Torinson," the Allfather boomed, and Leya's father nodded, bowing again.

"At your service, Allfather," he answered respectfully.

"You are Janitor of the Asgardian Jail, are you not?" the Allfather asked. Bjorn nodded once,

"I am indeed, my lord."

"I have been told the service you provide there is impeccable," the Allfather added. Leya glanced up at her father, knowing how the comment would be received. A smile came to Bjorn's face as he bowed graciously,

"I try my absolute best to ensure all of my guests needs are catered to." The Allfather nodded approvingly,

"And you do so very well," he paused and Leya just suppressed a smile, how her father would be struggling to contain his happiness at this moment. A compliment from the Allfather himself! There was no greater honour for them.

"Tell me, are you well staffed?" Odin enquired.

"I have my daughter Leya who is a hard worker and provides greatly valued help, and a young assistant named Rolf who also provides me with the aid required to satisfy all guests," Bjorn replied truthfully. Odin nodded,

"How old is this Rolf?"

"16, my lord," Bjorn hesitated, and the Allfather noticed.

"Have you something other to say of this boy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Rolf is provides invaluable assistance, my lord," Bjorn went on, "but I feel I must tell you he is mute." The Allfather took this on board, then nodded slowly.

"Very well," he turned to Thor and Loki and seemed to study the latter for the moment.

"I have a request, one which I hope will suit you well," he said, turning back to Leya and her father.

"Whatever I may do for you, my lord, it will be done," Bjorn replied.

"Thor, my son, has returned with Loki from Midgard," Odin gestured the two men, "and Loki will face Asgardian justice by the Court of Asgard in two days time. Until then, I require someone to watch over him, someone who is experienced with the needs of a prisoner. Loki will be kept here, within the palace. You will be paid for your time, and dismissed when the Court has passed its sentence." Bjorn gaped slightly,

"My lord, such an honour it would be," a look of pain flashed across his features, "but I fear I myself am not suited for the job, my work at the Jail keeps me busy and I would hate to provide poor quality service." The Allfather seemed impressed by this,

"You speak honestly. Do you know of one who may be suited to this job?" Bjorn glanced at Loki, as if mulling something over. His eyes then slid to Leya beside him. Leya's heart jumped as she realised what he meant to do, and she had to suppress the panic that began to build in her.

"My daughter Leya, my lord, has served me well for many years. I can see no better person for the job than she," Bjorn told Odin sincerely. He made the smallest gesture to Leya who took the hint. Stepping forward slightly, she bowed her head, not wanting to risk another curtsy. Looking up, she saw the Allfather studying her carefully.

"Are you, Leya, willing to take on the responsibility of caring for Loki until his day of trial?" he asked. Leya nodded solemnly, knowing she could not refuse,

"I am, my lord," she replied as loud as she dared.

"Then it is settled," Odin announced, "your daughter shall oversee Loki for his time in jail until his sentenced has been passed." Bjorn bowed,

"As you wish, my lord." Odin nodded slowly, then turned to Thor,

"My son, escort Loki to his cell and take the girl and her father with you, so that they may be acquainted with its whereabouts." Thor nodded,

"Of course."

"You are dismissed," Odin told them, and Bjorn bowed once again while Leya dipped the smallest curtsy.

At a gesture from Thor, they followed the two men out of the room and began the long walk through the castle. Nothing was said among them as guards shadowed their steps, though Bjorn did squeeze Leya's hand once. She understood the gesture and she squeezed back. Deeper and deeper into the depths of the palace they went, until it felt like they were underground and had left civilisation behind. Leya was careful to note key points so she would know how to navigate back here when the time came.

Eventually, they arrived at a door where two men stood guard. They did not look real, and Leya quickly realised they were enchanted statues who stepped aside to let Thor and Loki pass. She sneaked a glance at them as they passed, noting how stiff and utterly ridged they were, yet remained on constant guard. The perfect watchmen.

They emerged into a large chamber that had been split in two, the room furthest by far the largest. It was lush and well furnished, complete with a side room which no doubt had convenience facilities. What divided the room were thick metal bars, wide enough to not be broken by any mere God, and close enough together to let only the smallest child through. To the left was a hatch, no doubt for food to come and go into the cell. Leya frowned as she realised that one vital thing was missing – there was no door.

Thor answered this soon enough when he touched one of the bars, and Leya watched in fascination as they parted, widening to a gap large enough for someone to pass through. Thor gave Loki a pointed look, and with slow deliberate steps the God entered the cell. Thor touched the bars again and they melted back into place. Leya's heart fluttered with excitement; magic!

"Only I or the Allfather can open these bars," Thor told Leya and Bjorn sincerely, "they are imbued with an ancient enchantment that none can break," he threw a look at Loki as if challenging him to argue. The Trickster God made no reply, still muzzled. Approaching the bars, Thor gestured for Loki to come forwards. Loki's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"Do you wish to remain muzzled?" Thor asked him. Carefully, Loki took two steps until he was just within Thor's reach. Reaching through the bars, Thor took hold of the metal contraption attached to Loki's mouth and pulled firmly. There was a small click as it came away neatly and Loki opened his mouth several times, obviously exercising his jaw from its confinement. He looked up at Thor, his eyes cutting,

"Thank you, _brother_," he muttered, a smirk playing about his lips. Thor ignored him.

"Two meals a day, and nothing else. Is that understood?" he told Leya directly. The girl nodded, slightly intimidated by the God's gaze.

"Very well, I shall tell the guards of your purpose here so that they know to let you through," Thor nodded once, then left. Leya looked towards the God she was to watch over for the next few days and swallowed nervously. She didn't know much about Loki, former son of Odin, but what she had heard was not good. Erika had warned her of him, naming him a liesmith and a trickster. No doubt he would prove to be a challenging guest, and inwardly she steeled herself for the next 48 hours to come. In all honesty, she didn't know what to expect from him.

Loki looked at her, his eyes narrow and hard as he studied her.

"Am I to be watched over by a cripple?" he asked out of the blue. Leya tensed at his words, his smooth voice cutting the air like a knife. He may be a prince, or former prince, but Leya knew that respect between a prisoner and a jailer was essential. She had to stand her ground.

"My leg does not impede my ability to serve," she told him before her father could answer for her, "my lord," she added the last part, deliberately leaving the smallest gap between her phrases. Loki's mouth curled into a small smirk at her words but he said no more, turning to inspect his surroundings.

In truth, Leya had never seen a finer cell. There was lighting from lamps that appeared to have been welded into the walls themselves, giving decent light to their surroundings. A double bed stood in the corner behind the privacy of a screen, and a rich carpet covered most of the floor. There was a chaise long with a small table next to it, and a bookcase with a small number of books lining the shelves. In another corner sat a desk with a chair before it, with writing stationery already to use. A dining table occupied the centre of the room, with only one chair by it, making it look empty and lost. Nevertheless, Leya was sure that the entire contents of the room would amount to more than her father's annual wage. And to think it was a prison cell.

"I have told the guards that they are to let you and only you through," Thor returned, addressing Leya, he gave an apologetic look to Bjorn, "I am sorry I cannot extend that courtesy to you too, but they are very particular guards." Bjorn smiled and bowed slightly to the prince,

"Not at all, my lord." Thor nodded and returned the smile, glancing at Leya,

"Look after him well and you shall be rewarded..." his eyes slid over to where Loki was watching them from the corner of his eye, "Loki may be awaiting trial but he is still a prince of Asgard and is to be treated as such." Leya nodded solemnly,

"Yes, my lord."

"Forgive me, but I must leave you now as I have other business to attend to," Thor told them, "the kitchens are not far from here, you go out the doors and turn right, then left at the junction. After that you just follow your nose," he chuckled slightly and Leya couldn't help but warm to him, "have you anything you need?"

"No, my lord. Thank you," Leya gave him the smallest curtsy, wobbling only slightly. Thor shot her a brief look of sympathy and Leya flushed and looked down. Then he was gone and it was only the janitor, his daughter and the God of Mischief.

Leya turned to Loki, her eyes betraying none of the fear she felt creeping upon her as his icy gaze locked with hers.

"When would you like your evening meal, my lord?" she asked politely. Loki turned away, as if bored, and made no answer. Leya waited a moment, then nodded,

"Very well. I shall fetch it and have it so that you may eat at your leisure." Bjorn gave her an encouraging smile and Leya felt a brief spark of pride. So rarely did she get the chance to be with her father long enough to be praised, such busy lives they led.

Leaving the chamber, Leya and Bjorn followed Thor's instructions until they came to the kitchens. Servants were bustling about, and it took a moment for Leya to catch one of them for questioning.

"Where might I find food for the prisoner Loki?" she asked. The young woman shrugged,

"I don't know, ask Cook," she pointed to a large lady by the stove before hurrying away with her jug. Leya approached the indicated lady as her father waited outside. The woman looked up at her and her eyes narrowed in suspicion,

"What do you want?" she asked, her little piggy eyes glinting fiercely. She was extremely well rounded and had multiple chins, and reminded Leya very much of an old sow.

"I've come for food for the prisoner Loki," Leya told her calmly and levelly. The Cook snorted and banged a lid onto a saucepan,

"Oh right. Very well then." Leya waited as the woman pulled together a meal from various assorted bits and bobs, yet still managed to make it seem like it was a pre-planned dish. She put it on a tray and handed it to Leya,

"Don't you go sneaking anything for yourself," she warned the girl. Leya shook her head,

"I'm not a thief." The woman gave her a shrewd look, then nodded curtly,

"Good. How many meals is he having a day?"

"Two. Morning and evening," Leya replied.

"I'll have a tray prepared for you each morning and put by the entrance, that way you don't have to bother me all the time," the Cook told her. Leya inclined her head at the remark,

"Thank you." Carrying the tray of food carefully, she navigated back through the kitchen to where her father waited.

They walked back to Loki's cell in silence. As Thor had said, the guards would not let Bjorn pass, allowing Leya to pass through unhindered. She wondered what magic it was that controlled them, and whether such a spell could ever be broken.

She found Loki reclining on the chaise long, having not even bothered taking his shoes off or removed his coat. Rolling her eyes to herself at his laidback manner, Leya slid the tray through the hatch and onto a platform that projected into the cell. Moving to the side, she looked at the God who lay with his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"I shall return tomorrow at 8:00am with your breakfast," she told him, knowing how much the Gods liked a lie in. She received no reply, so simply bobbed a wobbly curtsy and left.

As she and her father were taken back in the carriage, Leya couldn't help but sigh. Even if it was only for a few days, she could think of a better way to spend her time than caring for a God who didn't know the meaning of compassion. Perhaps that was a little harsh of her, but she felt it somewhat true. It was the same with all other guests who were of noble birth. No matter how kind she was to Loki, how ready to serve his wishes, he would never reciprocate anything similar. To him, she was just a shadow, there to serve and then disappear until needed again.

Shoulders slumping, Leya looked up towards the multitude of stars that shone down over the golden realm.

Loki of Asgard, her prisoner, but all in all...just another God.

**What say you, reader? Is Loki just another Asgardian God? Pfft. As if...!**

**Once again, feedback (be it positive or critical) is very much appreciated...I aim to please :)**


	3. The Trial

**Thank you once again to everyone who has reviewed/followed this story so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

Leya hurried through the palace, her heart racing with anxiety. Today was the day of Loki's trial and she was supposed to be at his cell when Thor arrived to escort him up. Only she was running late as she'd gotten lost in the palace...again. She wondered how anyone knew their way around it, with all the corridors and passageways that looked alike. Even in the few days she'd been working here, she'd barely even mastered the way to Loki's cell. So much for key points to help her find her way.

Finally arriving, she took a moment to compose herself before entering the room, hoping she wasn't too late. Her heart fell as two pairs of eyes rose up to meet hers.

"There you are," Thor exclaimed with a hearty smile, "I was beginning to wonder where you'd got to."

"My apologies, my lord," Leya hastened to reply, "I am not yet as well acquainted with the palace as I would like to be." Thor nodded understandingly,

"It is a vast place indeed, and one can get easily lost in its greatness." Leya gave him a hesitant, grateful smile before looking towards Loki. She sighed as she saw that he hadn't touched his food...again. For the past few days she'd been bringing him meals, and he hadn't taken a bite. And it was always a pain for her, trying to replace one tray with another. She'd taken to removing the old tray and placing it on the ground before replacing it with the new tray. But because of her gammy leg, she couldn't bend down easily so it was difficult to do so and she ended up wobbling and wincing in pain most of the time. She decided against removing the old tray this time, not wanting to perform her little dance in front of both princes.

"How has he been?" Thor asked her, and Leya glanced at Loki. He lay once again on the chaise long, and she could have sworn he had only moved 3 times in the past few days.

"He is well," she replied carefully, "though he has been refusing his food, and has not requested anything additional." Thor heaved a great sigh and looked at Loki,

"It's time for your trial," he told him.

"I am aware of that," Loki replied softly, "and I will come in my own time." Leya bit her lip and looked apologetically at Thor. From his expression, he was used to Loki's behaviour. Opening the bars, he marched into the cell without a second's thought.

"You will rise and accompany me and the Lady Leya to court where you will be tried for your crimes against Midgard," he growled down to his former brother. Leya's heart leapt and she shuffled slightly with embarrassment. Had he just called her a lady? If only.

"Very well," Loki rose from the chaise long and left the cell without another word. He turned back to look at his brother expectantly, completely ignoring the girl.

Thor held up handcuffs and Loki rolled his eyes,

"That is not necessary."

"A precaution," Thor told him, striding towards him. Loki remained still whilst Thor fastened his hands together, then there was a pause.

"If father and the other elders are most sincerely displeased with you...then you could face execution," Thor muttered to his one-time brother. Loki simply smiled,

"I do not fear death." Thor looked at him darkly,

"I only hope you never find out." Leya detected a trace of regret to his voice, as if he was saddened by the other God's lack of emotion.

"We shall know soon enough, _brother_," Loki hissed quietly, his eyes flashing. Thor's expression remained stony and he looked to Leya.

"Thank you for all you have done for my...for Loki. Whatever happens, you shall be rewarded for your services," he said. Leya bowed her head in thanks,

"Thank you, my lord, it has been an honour to be of service."

The mismatched trio left the chamber; the God of Thunder in front, the God of Magic, Mischief and Lies in the middle, with Leya bringing up the rear. As they walked, Lea mused how she'd never in her entire life seen herself walking behind two Gods at such close quarters, and Asgardian Princes, too! In a way, she was disappointed that her time at the palace was so limited, and she almost resented returning to their drab prison tomorrow. For the most part, however, she was glad to be on the way out. Valhalla knew Loki was a stubborn prisoner and she shuddered at the thought of having to deal with him on a day to day basis. He had not spoken to her once, and neither had he eaten. It was as if he were pretending she didn't exist; not that she wasn't used to it.

Eventually, they arrived at the main hall that had been transformed into a court. Odin Allfather, his wife Frigga and a few other major Gods sat along a raised platform, Odin highest upon his throne. Various lords and ladies had turned up to watch the trail and sat in the pews that lined the hall, forming an arena around the centre where the accused would no doubt stand. Thor motioned for Leya to sit by the door, in view of the action but a little tucked away from sight. Leya sat gratefully, relieving her leg of the strain of trying to walk without a limp.

Thor led Loki to the centre of the room and stood him before the panel, standing himself a little to the side. Odin, not one for full formalities unless absolutely necessary, launched straight into the trial.

"Loki Layfeyson," in those two words there were already murmurs in the court. Leya's eyes widened. Laufeyson? But Laufey was a Frost Giant, their king! How could Loki be his son?

"Order in the court," called another God on the panel and silence gradually fell.

"Loki Laufeyson, you stand accused of the abduction of the Tesseract, a sacred Asgardian relic, in light to use its powers for your own gain. As a result, the realm of Midgard has suffered dearly. A Midgardian city was destroyed and 348 humans met an untimely death at your hand. You are also accused of willingly and knowingly forming an alliance with the Chitauri, a race of lawless beings who Asgard does not recognise and openly shuns." Odin paused to look at the God he had once called son. "How do you answer these charges?" Loki smiled as a hush fell over the court, everyone waiting on his answer. With a serene blink, he answered,

"Guilty as charged." Muttering broke out among the gathered congregation once again, louder this time. Leya watched Loki curiously as he simply smiled and stared at the Allfather, a cold gaze that Leya was sure had pierced many hearts. Odin looked to his fellows on the panel and a silent agreement passed between them.

"Then the Court of Asgard does hereby find you, Loki Laufeyson, guilty of all charged crimes. You will be sentenced accordingly." Odin looked to a God on his left who took his cue.

"Loki Laufeyson, for the crimes you have committed against the Allfather and against Asgard, you are subject to one of two sentences; a life-time imprisonment, or execution." Odin nodded,

"Those in favour of a life-time imprisonment." 3 out of the 7 Gods and Goddesses gathered raised their hand, Frigga included.

"Those in favour of execution." The other 4 raised their hand, Odin among them. Leya saw something flash in Loki's eyes and she couldn't help but pity him for the smallest second. He was being sentenced to death by one he had called father, something no-one should ever have to face, regardless of crime. Odin took stock of the vote and nodded solemnly,

"The Court of Asgard has spoken and found you guilty, Loki Laufeyson. For your crimes, you will be executed." There was a brittle silence at his words, all those gathered sitting in shock at the verdict. Death? To the immortals, it was such a queer thing...to die. And yet here was one sentenced to death by their King.

"I would speak, father," came a voice and Leya looked around in surprise to see Thor step forward. Odin surveyed him carefully then nodded once in assent.

"I will not defence Loki from his crimes," Thor began, "as I have witnessed them first hand and seen the destruction brought about by his actions. Nevertheless, I must speak out against the sentence of execution." Odin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Thor went on,

"Loki may not be of Asgard by blood or heritage, but this is where he was raised and it is his home. We were raised alongside each other as brothers, and though we may not be so in blood, nothing can undo the bonds of friendship one ties as a child. Loki was, and still is, my brother. And that is why I beg of you to reconsider your verdict, and make it so he is sentenced to a life imprisonment. I do not ask for his forgiveness or release, I ask only that we remember Loki as one of us, and as a Prince of Asgard. Death is too heavy a price, and I for one do heartily plead that you reconsider, and do cast my vote with those who would see him face a life-sentence."

Silence greeted Thor's words and you could hear a pin drop in the hall. Leya was impressed, having not expected Thor to speak so openly about Loki and to proclaim so emotionally his feelings. She frowned in thought; could it be that despite all he had done, Thor still loved Loki as a brother?

Odin shifted in his throne, his eye narrowed as he appeared to mull over Thor's speech. Frigga leaned towards him and whispered a few words that no-one but he heard. Odin's face took on a look of mild disgust, but then he nodded,

"Very well, the sentence shall be changed from execution to a life-time imprisonment." Leya's eyebrows rose in surprise and Thor broke into a wide smile as murmuring started amongst the lords and ladies once again.

"Thank you, father," the prince bowed and looked back at Loki. The God of Magic looked neither pleased nor displeased, but mayhaps a little disgusted. No doubt Thor's stepping in to save him would itself give him cause for grief.  
"Where is Loki's jailer?" Odin called, and it took Leya a moment to realise he meant her. By that time people were already looking around and she swallowed as her stomach filled with butterflies. Rising to her feet, she came forward a few paces, focusing all her energy on walking normally and not throwing up with anxiety.

"Here, Allfather," she said, her voice shaking slightly as she tried and failed to curtsy. Odin turned to her, and she thought she saw a brief look of sympathy in his eyes before it vanished.

"You have served as Loki's jailer these past few days, have you not?" he asked. Leya bowed her head,

"Yes, my lord."

"And you have found the work amiable?" Leya hesitated only briefly,

"It is not strenuous, my lord," she answered. Odin nodded, apparently satisfied with her answer,

"Then I do hereby appoint you Loki Laufeyson's permanent jailer. Do you accept?" In the depths of Leya's mind she felt sure she'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. Since when was she to be Loki's permanent jailer? It seemed so highly improbable and she couldn't help but think she had missed something important. Yet the pieces were all there...and there was only one answer she could give. Her mind, however, took a long time to figure out how to say it.

"I do, my lord," she all but blurted when the words finally came, seconds later. Odin nodded,

"Then it is decided. Loki Laufeyson, you are hereby sentenced to a life in jail. Have you anything to say before your sentence is carried out?" Loki's eyes gleamed, but he said nothing. Odin did not give him long,

"Court dismissed," he announced in a booming voice. Thor turned to Loki and gave him a hard look as talking broke out in the crowd. Loki glared at him, but obediently followed as Thor approached Leya.

"Come," he said, and she obligingly fell in behind as they left the hall.

They returned to the cell in silence. When Thor opened the bars, at first Loki would not go in.

"I am not an animal to be locked away," he hissed, "you cannot keep me in such a place."

"Would you rather face the executioner's sword?" Thor retorted. Loki's eyes narrowed harshly at him,

"I did not ask for you to speak on my behalf."

"I saved your life!" Thor exclaimed, stepping forwards.

"And condemned me to one behind bars," Loki snarled, stepping forward to meet him. Leya watched as the two former brothers squared up to each other like lions. Thor was taller and stronger, but Leya would think twice about putting Loki down in a fight. Eventually, it was Thor who backed down.

"I could not let you die, brother," he muttered thickly. Loki looked at him in mild disgust, but Leya saw remnants of something in his eyes splutter like a dying fire.

"Sentiment," he spat before turning and marching into his cell. Relief flooded Thor's face and he touched the bars, watching as they closed over his one-time brother for the last time.

"I will visit you when I can," Thor told him, but Loki had already turned away. The God of Thunder turned to Leya,

"I am sorry for this turn of events," he said sincerely, "and I understand if you wish for me to find a replacement for you." Leya was touched by his kindness and smiled in gratitude,

"Thank you, my lord," then she faltered. Someone had to deal with Loki...and if it wasn't her then someone else would have to do it. And she already knew the job, the pay was good...she sighed.

"But I will keep the job, I am already growing accustomed to it," she remarked with a grim smile. Thor looked at her in surprise,

"Are you sure?" Leya nodded,

"It is the Allfather's will." Thor looked as if he wanted to argue, but then nodded once,

"Very well, as you wish." He looked at Loki who had sat down with his back to them.

"Good luck," he murmured quietly to Leya and the girl just managed to stop herself from smiling.

"Thank you, my lord," she whispered back with a small curtsy. Thor left, but Leya stayed a moment to contemplate her future.

This was now her full-time job, whether she liked it or not. Bringing Loki's food, taking Loki's food away...twice a day, every day, possibly for the rest of her life.

Leya sighed.

**Had a good think about what I thought might happen to Loki. Exile/banishment...I just didn't think it would work. Execution...probably. Life sentence...why not?**

**Poor Leya...**

**Please do review and let me know what you think :D  
**


	4. A Request

**Thank you to all my reviewers/followers so far! You guys are a pleasure to write for :)**

Over the next few days, Leya quickly grew accustomed to her new routine of life. She rose every morning at 6:00am to prepare breakfast for herself, her father and Rolf. Then she would complete any chores that needed doing; washing up, hanging clothes to dry or something similar. At 7:15am she would begin the 30 minute walk to the palace. It took her longer than most because of her leg, so she gave herself plenty of time to get there. When she arrived, she fetched Loki's breakfast and went to the God's cell. She removed the tray from the night before and replaced it with the new, taking the old back to the kitchen. Loki's meals had been increased to three a day, but he did not require further attention until 1:00pm, leaving her with a few surplus hours.

Not one for missing an opportunity, Leya had tentatively sought out Thor and asked if there was any work she may help with in the palace. The prince had been most kind and understanding and quickly found her a job helping in the gardens in the morning, pruning and weeding the plants. At 12:45am, she would go to the kitchens and retrieve Loki's lunch. She repeated the process from earlier, replacing the old with new before retiring to the kitchen. Then, she was given lunch with the other servants (by Thor's orders, she found out) and then helped in the kitchen with washing up the lunch utensils in time for supper. Loki's dinner was at 7:00pm and then she would wash up a bit more and be home by 8:30pm to cook for her father when he arrived. Then she would go to bed by 9:30pm and be up the next day at 6:00am to repeat the whole process.

The regular routine was soon engraved in Leya's mind and she began to cut down on the time it took her to get places as she grew to know the palace better. She learned the quickest route from the side entrance to the kitchens, to Loki's cell, and to the garden, all within a week. Eventually, Leya found herself performing some duties automatically and without thought. Her adventurous mind had quickly grown bored of the day in day out custom and tried to entice her to explore further, to know the palace better. But she was determined to do her job well and keep her father proud. She was even bringing in a little more money thanks to her work in the garden! It wasn't much, but it was more than she'd had before and she found her savings growing day by day, the food on their table increasing in quality and quantity.

* * *

Alas, her mind would not relent, and 8 days into her working for the palace, she was late for the very first time.

Leya was in the garden, utterly engrossed in her weeding. She was surrounded by flowers and bushes of an array of colours, and a light breeze brought them all to life so it seemed as if they were whispering to one another. She sat, completely at ease and more relaxed than she had been in weeks. Taking a deep breath, she took in the fresh scent around her. If only _this_ could be her every day job, working in the gardens among the plants she found such comfort in...

A great gong sounded out once, breaking the quiet. Startled from her thoughts, Leya looked up at the great clock tower that overlooked the garden. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the time. 1:00pm. She was late.

Scrambling to her feet, she winced as her legs groaned with the effort and she grabbed her collection of weeds, shoving them into the basket she'd been given. She began to stumble away, searching for Iona, a fellow gardener. She found the woman under an apple tree and practically shoved the basket into her hands.

"I'm so sorry, I completely lost track of time," she gasped, "I have to go." Iona smiled,

"Don't worry about it, Leya." The girl flashed her a grateful smile and hurried away as fast as her gammy leg would allow.

The Cook raised an eyebrow as she staggered into the kitchens gasping like a fish, but Leya snatched the lunch tray and was gone before the woman could comment. Moments later, Leya was outside Loki's chamber and took a brief second to catch her breath before going in. At the back of her mind, she wondered why she was so flustered simply for being late...but she had not the time to dwell on it. Leya winced as cramp took ahold of her leg and she shook it roughly, to no avail. Doggedly, she entered the chamber.

Loki was nowhere to be seen, until she caught sight of two feet sticking out from the end of the bed. Hoping he'd stay there (he rarely moved in her presence), she set about replacing the old tray with the new. She was just removing the old one when the cramp in her leg suddenly increased ten-fold and she gave a small cry of pain. Stumbling back, the tray and its untouched contents went clattering to the floor, scattering everywhere.

"Oh...Hel's whiskers..." Leya muttered in irritation, having enough manners not to swear. Sighing, she sank onto her uninjured leg and thought of what to do next. She had to find a way to replace the trays easily without bending down. And she couldn't do that with her gammy leg, but maybe...

And idea came to her and she bit her lip. She could use her talents to help her...it would certainly come in handy now. But no-one knew of her talents. Peering around, she saw that Loki hadn't moved an inch. He wouldn't know if she pulled a few strings to make it easier for herself, literally.

With another watchful glance towards Loki, she looked at the fallen tray determinedly. At her will, the object lifted off the ground and she went about replacing the food that had fallen. She was slow, but careful, knowing well that magic was not a thing to rush. When the old tray was done she lowered it to the ground, then focusing on the new tray. It rose steadily until it was level with the platform, and then she slid it through the hatch neatly. Leya smiled to herself. She'd done it! And to think the process was almost effortless and ten times easier than manual work...

"You have magic," came a voice and she jumped with fright. Looking up, she saw Loki standing by the bars, watching her with apparent interest.

"M-my lord," she stammered, hurrying to het to her feet, "I didn't see you there." He simply looked at her and Leya shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. How much had he seen?

"Who taught you?" Loki asked suddenly. Leya blinked and instinctively met his gaze. Ice green orbs stared back at her and she swallowed, but held contact. She would not be afraid of him, no matter his power or past. Bars thicker than her arm stood between them, she reminded herself, though part of her knew they would be no obstacle to the God.

"No-one," she answered firmly. Loki's mouth twitched,

"You forget who you are talking to, girl. I am the God of Lies." Leya frowned slightly as she registered his words,

"I am no liar," she protested.

"Then who taught you magic?" Loki asked, quirking an eyebrow. Leya drew herself up straighter,

"I taught myself," she told him truthfully. Every night, she would rise at midnight and practise for two hours, teaching herself spells and tricks. Progress was slow, but she'd been at it for years and had raised herself to a decent level. Her father had no magic, and her mother had died when she was very small, so she didn't know where her talent came from. All she knew was that she had it, and it was an asset to her.

If Loki was surprised by this, he didn't show it. Instead, his eyes flicked down to the tray on the ground. Leya glanced down as the tray began to rise slowly, stopping by her side. Leya looked up at Loki and reached for the tray, but it moved out of her reach, several feet away. Not knowing quite what to do, Leya gave Loki a curious glance. There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, and she realised he was playing with her. Sighing, she reached for the tray again.

Quite without warning the tray began to fall. Reacting with impressive speed, Leya lunged for it with her magic and caught it just before it hit the ground. Without thinking, she shot Loki a glare and pulled the tray to her. A harsh tug on the tray broke her concentration and the tray fell to the floor once again, the clang ringing in the air like a bell.

"Loki, stop it," Leya snapped, then abruptly clamped her mouth shut. He may be her prisoner, but he was still a God and of noble birth. He would certainly not appreciate being talked to like a child, especially by a mere serving girl. Not wanting to tempt him further, Leya was forced to get down painfully on her hands and knees and put everything back manually. Loki's eyes never once left her and she felt her cheeks burn with the indignation of it all. Once she had everything again, she rose to her feet with difficulty.

"Good day, my lord," she twitched her head to Loki and turned brusquely, anxious to be away.

"I have a request," Loki called after her. Rolling her eyes to herself, Leya turned back and looked at him expectantly.

"I would like a book," Loki went on.

"You have books," Leya blurted, then bit her tongue as Loki smiled. She really needed to watch her mouth.

"I would like a _specific_ book," Loki clarified, "it is titled 'Asgardian Sorcery Volume XIII'. You will find it in the library." Leya smiled thinly and waited for him to tell her where the library was. But it soon became apparent that no such information was forthcoming as Loki's eyes twinkled with dark humour. Trying not to grind her teeth together, Leya smiled sweetly,

"Very good, my lord." She didn't even bother with a curtsy before turning and walking from the room, before he could demand anything else.

* * *

Leya wanted to cry with frustration, or wring Loki's neck. Possibly both. Her quest for the library had been a failure and now she was completely and utterly lost. The kitchen staff hadn't been much help either, some of them not even knowing how to read.

She'd been wandering the corridors of the palace for what felt like hours, meeting no-one apart from the odd Lord or Lady who simply ignored her. She hadn't even come across a palace guard to ask for directions. And now her leg was aching and she wanted to sit down for rest, but there were no seats.

Tired and irritated, she turned yet another corner...and walked straight into someone.

"I say," exclaimed a voice and Leya stumbled back in surprise, just catching herself from falling. Looking up, she found herself looking into the bright eyes of a handsome young man with golden locks and a fair complexion.

"My lord," Leya hastened to speak, bowing her head, "I am sorry, I did not see you there." The man, who wore fine clothes threaded with gold, smiled at her,

"Not to worry, young maiden, I too was not looking where I was going." Leya gave him a small smile in return.

"Fandrall!" called a strong, female voice and the man turned to see a young woman striding towards her, clothed in flexible armour that seemed designed for her, with a sword strapped to her side. The man smiled,

"My dear Lady Sif," he inclined his head politely, "to what do I owe this pleasure?" The woman rolled her eyes,

"Cut the sweet talk, Fandrall. Hotun's looking for you."

"Is he now?" the man's brow furrowed. The woman, who Leya took to be the great warrioress Lady Sif, turned to her.

"And who might you be?" she asked, not unkindly. Leya inclined her head and dipped a curtsy,

"Leya, my lady." The woman thought a moment,

"You are Loki's jailer, are you not?" Leya nodded,

"I am." Fandrall looked at her in surprise,

"Are you really? How is he?"

"He is well, my lord," Leya told him, "and he has requested a book from the library." Fandrall snorted,

"Typical Loki."

"I too am headed for the library," Sif told her, "mayhaps we can journey there together?" Leya nodded in thanks,

"I would be honoured, my lady," the she hesitated.

"What is it?" Sif asked.

"I am afraid I do not know where the library is," Leya confessed. Sif and Fandrall looked surprised,

"Did Loki not tell you?" Sif enquired. Leya shook her head slightly,

"No," she murmured, embarrassed. Sif pursed her lips and exchanged looks with Fandrall who tutted,

"Really, he hasn't changed much..." he muttered. Sif looked at Leya with warm eyes,

"Do not fret, I will show you the way." Leya smiled and dipped another curtsy,

"Thank you, my lady."

* * *

The battle maiden and the servant walked through the palace corridors together as their heels clacked against the fine marble floor. The Lady Sif was quite unlike most ladies Leya was accustomed to, and even went so far as to make small talk with the girl while they walked. Leya answered formally, but leisurely, and couldn't help but wish all ladies were like Lady Sif. Alas, it was Sif who was the rarity.

Finally, they reached the library. Leya's mouth fell open. It was _huge_. It was one massive hall located in the north-west of the palace, so the afternoon sun shone brightly through the large windows. Shelves were everywhere, reaching to the rafters with ladders running up them and platforms halfway up with a second floor of shelves, and aisles filling the rest of the hall in a neat, strategic layout. And every one of the shelves was crammed full of books.

Lady Sif approached a man who sat behind a desk near the entrance.

"Good afternoon, Alf," she said loudly and the man started and looked up.

"Oh, Lady Sif, what a pleasant surprise," he exclaimed in a nasally voice, "how may I help you today?"

"I just wish to browse," Sif answered, "but this young woman has come to collect a book for Loki...Laufeyson." The man blinked in surprise and looked at Leya,

"I see. What is the book's title?"

"Asgardian Sorcery Volume XIII," Leya told him. The man nodded,

"Sorcery section IV, shelves I through VIII." Leya looked at him uncertainly, sure he'd just given her instructions that she didn't understand.

"Come, I shall search with you," Lady Sif offered kindly.

"Oh, my lady, I would not wish to use any more of your time," Leya told her, "I am sure I can find it on my own."

"Then I will just show you the sorcery section and leave you be," Sif smiled. Leya bowed her head in gratitude,

"Thank you, my lady." She followed the battle maiden as she weaved expertly through the aisles, and Leya couldn't help but wonder how a warrior such as herself should be so well acquainted with the library. Deciding it would be impolite and not her place to ask, Leya kept her silence and simply followed obediently. True to her word, Sif showed her the Sorcery section and pointed out the shelf numbering systems before leaving her.

From there, it did not take Leya too long to find the book she was looking for. Her eyes trailed over the volumes that were lined neatly in alphabetical order, some of them looking as if they had not been touched in years. When she found the right book, she retrieved it as easily as she could. It was huge and weighed at least half a ton, and Leya was thankful it was near ground level. What she would have done had it been higher, she did not know.

Somewhat reluctantly, she departed the library with arms clamped firmly around the giant volume. She would liked to have stayed longer, there was a peace to the library atmosphere that appealed to her greatly, and she felt she could enjoy the quiet solitude of the place for a great deal longer. And what a thing it was to be surrounded by knowledge that was just there for the taking! Mayhaps she could return in her free time to browse and enjoy the atmosphere once again. After all, her father had taught her the basics of reading and writing, and it would be a shame to let such talents fall to waste.

* * *

Loki didn't even look up as she entered the chamber, sitting once again at the table with his back to her. Leya heaved the book over to the hatch, only to find the tray of food in its way, untouched. Sighing, she lugged the book over to the bars. Still, Loki did not move.

"I have brought your book as requested, my lord," she announced.

"Leave it," Loki muttered without turning. Leya swallowed but remained where she was. The relationship between a jailer and their prisoner was a tricky one, but both needed to play their part equally. If one stood too far above the other, the balance of power would falter and problems would arise. For Leya, it was clear that Loki thought himself far above her...and since bringing him down was not an option, she needed to raise herself a little.

"My lord, you have not eaten in over a week," she began firmly. A jailer was nothing without a prisoner, and was tasked with ensuring their comfort and well-being, but neither could the jailer force the prisoner to live. Loki made no reply, so Leya went on,

"You must eat to keep up your strength, my lord," she informed him. Loki let out a brief chuckle that came out as a snort of air.

"I am a God. I do not require nutrition to sustain me," he answered dismissively.

"Nevertheless," Leya replied determinedly, "you must eat, for not even the strongest God can survive forever without food." Loki tensed at her words,

"You doubt my strength?" he murmured softly, dangerously. Leya noticed how he stiffened and knew she was treading on eggshells...but she had to press home her point.

"Not at all, my lord. I was merely pointing out that you have nothing to lose from eating, and nothing to gain from starvation," she told him levelly. Finally, Loki turned to face her, his eyes locked with hers like a viper to its prey. Ice pooled in Leya's gut at the sea green depths of his eyes, flashing with dark humour that warned her to stay on her guard.

"Are you telling me what to do?" he asked quietly, his voice as cold and as sharp as a dagger, with the barest trace of mirth. Leya swallowed,

"No, my lord," she replied as boldly as she dared, "I would never dare tell you what to do. But it is my job to ensure your health and well-being, and I cannot do that unless you too desire the same." Loki's eyes narrowed and Leya took a small breath as fire danced in his eyes. He was a panther, watching a rabbit as it deliberated whether to make the kill, its tail flicking back and forth.

"My health and well-being are no concerns of yours," he answered smoothly, "you have but one job, and that is to bring me food. Whether I eat it is my business." Leya stood firm, if she broke now, she'd never achieve a shred of respect.

"My lord, what have you to gain from starvation?" she asked him firmly. The God's eyes darkened,

"You dare question me?" he hissed slightly, a snake on his silver tongue.

"Am I in error?" Leya asked, meeting his gaze solidly, all the while feeling as if she were dancing on burning coals. For a moment, Loki simply looked at her with a cold, piercing gaze. Leya held the contact, though her heart began to freeze up with the ice that seeped from his soul. He was a black hearted monster, and she was immensely grateful for the bars that separated them.

Then, Loki smirked, his lips thinning.

"When I want the opinion of a crippled serving girl, I will ask for it," he told her curtly, his voice breaking the brittle silence, "and if you dare question me again I will tear your tongue from your throat. Is that understood?" Leya bowed her head, content with his response as it meant he had at least listened to her.

"Yes, my lord," she murmured to the ground, her body giving all the gestures of submission she could think of. But inwardly, she smiled. He knew she was right, she could tell, but agreeing with her would only make him weak in his eyes so he took the defensive. Still, she had done all she could.

"Leave me," Loki muttered, turning away. Leya lowered the book to the ground and left it propped against the bars. Turning, she allowed herself the smallest smile, before leaving the chamber in silence.

**I'm trying my absolute best to keep Loki in character...so please do let me know if you think I've achieved this!**

**As always, reviews are most welcome :)**


	5. Past Wounds

**Oh lawdy lawd...sorry for not updating in so long! It was Christmas, and then New Year...and then life! Please accept my most humble apologies for the wait, and I will try my best to ensure my updates are never so delayed again :P**

**Have you reviewed? Have you followed? If so...I love you! If not, I still love you...but maybe a little less...  
**

**Kidding! Enjoy chapter 5 :)  
**

Several days had passed since Loki had threatened to tear Leya's tongue from her throat, and so far there had been no further interaction between the servant and the God. It seemed as if Loki had withdrawn further into himself, erasing her existence from his mind as he poured over the thick volume she had brought him, never once even looking in her direction. As far as Leya was concerned, things could stay that way. She was enjoying her work, and the extra money was doing wonders for her father. Not long ago he had worried consistently about finances, and balancing the rent pay with the money for food they needed on a weekly basis.

Now, however, they could comfortably pay the rent on their small house and afford all the food they required. Also, Bjorn had even managed to hire another assistant to replace Leya's duties. He'd chosen another young man from a humble background by the name of Faolan. Leya hadn't seen him much as he lived with his own family and they rarely crossed paths, but from what she'd seen he was polite and handsome, if a little intimidating at well over 6ft 4. From what her father said, he was a great help in the jail, almost doubling as a guard because of his height (Bjorn joked). All in all, Leya was content with the way things were. They had money in their pockets, food on their table, and a roof over their heads...there was really nothing more they could ask for.

One afternoon, Leya arrived with Loki's lunch to find that he was not alone. Thor smiled up at her as she entered,

"Good afternoon, Leya," he greeted her cheerfully, like an old friend. Leya smiled back at him, impressed he had remembered her name,

"Good afternoon, my lord," she returned, ignoring the look of disgust on Loki's face at the exchange. Going over to the hatch, she paused. Ever since Loki had discovered her magic she thought nothing of using it to help her here, but she wasn't so keen on Thor finding out. Sighing inwardly, she braced her leg and began to bend down to lower the new tray to the ground.

"Allow me," Thor stepped forward and offered a hand. Leya blinked at him uncertainly,

"My lord?"

"Let me help you," Thor told her kindly, gesturing the tray. Leya hesitantly handed it to him and he took it as if it weighed nothing. Removing the old tray, she then swapped trays with the God who handled them both with expert balance. The new tray safely delivered, Leya bobbed a wobbly curtsy in thanks.

"Thank you, my lord," she told him sincerely.

"You are most welcome," Thor smiled, "I understand that your injury must come as a hindrance to you." Leya looked down and flushed slightly,

"My leg is indeed a hindrance, my lord," she muttered in agreement. Thor hesitated, as if nothing her lack of enthusiasm.

"I am sorry if you feel I have passed judgement on you," he told her candidly, "I meant no offence." Leya's mouth twitched,

"I am not offended, my lord. I get it all the time," she finished drily. Thor paused and looked at her sympathetically,

"How did you come about such an injury?" he asked gently. Leya sighed inwardly as blurred memories flashed through her mind. A bright day. The cry of gulls. The smell of the sea.

"I was pushed off a cliff as a child, my lord," she answered truthfully, "I survived, but my leg has never been the same." Thor's eyebrows rose in surprise,

"Were you not taken to a healer?"

"We could not afford one," Leya murmured in reply, eyes downcast. Thor frowned slightly,

"Were those responsible brought to justice?"

"No, my lord," Leya muttered, "they were but children, as I was, and it was deemed an unfortunate accident." Thor's frown deepened momentarily and Leya glanced towards Loki's cell. The God of Magic sat with his back to them, but she could tell from his posture he was listening in on every word.

"You have my sincerest condolences," Thor addressed her earnestly and Leya gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you, my lord," she inclined her head, "I have grown accustomed to it over the years, and learned to accept it." Thor nodded,

"You are most brave," he told her, and Leya felt a flush creep over her cheeks at the compliment.

"I too know a little of what it is like to lose something that was once so dear to oneself," Thor went on with the smallest look in Loki's direction. Leya's lips pursed and her brow furrowed as she noted his gaze, but quickly wiped the expression from her face as Thor turned back to her.

"How fares Loki?" he asked.

"Well enough, my lord," she replied, "he has requested one book from the library so far, which I delivered. But he has not eaten in over a week." Thor's brow knotted at this and he turned to Loki,

"Why have you not eaten?" The dark God turned to face them slowly, his eyes alighting briefly on Leya's. She felt a bolt of malice fly from his eyes to her heart, and she felt as if he were accusing her of telling tales. Then he turned to the God of Thunder, a sneer on his lips,

"What do you care if I do or do not eat?" he said coldly.  
"I care for your health, Loki," Thor told him firmly, his blue eyes flashing, "and I would have you eat the food that has been so generously provided to you." Loki looked at him,

"I'm not hungry." Thor took a step forward in anger,

"You have been given food, Loki; eat it."

"Or what?" Loki asked, his eyes dancing with malicious mirth.

"I cannot force you to eat," Thor growled, "but starving yourself will do you no good." Loki's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Thor looked at Leya,

"What happens to his food?" Leya shifted slightly,

"It is thrown away," she informed him. No-one dared touch food that had been within a few feet of the doomed God; there were even rumours that all he touched turned to black ash, though of course Leya knew this to be untrue. Thor's jaw clenched at her response,

"You are wasting Asgardian food, Loki," he told the God, "it is petty and childish."

"Then do not bring me meals you know I will not eat," Loki retorted smoothly. Thor stepped closed to the bars, his fist half raising. Loki stayed where he was, smiling.

Cursing under his breath, Thor glanced at Leya.

"You will keep me informed of Loki's meals, and what he does and does not eat. Whatever is wasted, let it be fed to the dogs," he scowled at his former brother, "I will not have you toss aside that which is freely given. Might I remind you that if you truly do wish to die, then I can have a word with father about it on your behalf." Loki stiffened and his eyes took on a look of acute disgust,

"I was ready to die, Thor," he snarled, stepping forward to the bars. Thor shook his head but said nothing. With a sweep of his red cape, he stalked from the room, the doors clanging shut behind him. Leya swallowed and her eyes flicked over to Loki. The God glowered at the doors, as if trying to burn a hole in them. Taking her leave, Leya bobbed her head and began to move away.

"Stop," she paused and looked back at the God behind bars. He was eyeing her dangerously,

"If you convey my eating habits to Thor, there will be consequences." Knowing full well she was being threatened yet again, Leya drew herself upright, trying and failing to quell the feeling of her guts turning to icy water.

"I am no liar," she told the God as firmly as she could, looking him in the eye. Before he could reply, she left the room as quick as she dared, all the while feeling his cold gaze at her back.

* * *

Leya frowned in her sleep as she tossed and turned in her bed. In her ears she could hear the sound of the sea, the ocean breeze, the cry of the gulls, and she knew what was to come. Yet try as she might, she could not stop the dream as it descended on her as she lay helpless, washing over her in waves of blurred memory and incomplete thoughts...

_It was a bright day; the sun was high in the sky and there was not a cloud in sight. Two girls were walking along a coastal path in some unidentifiable part of Asgard. To their left lay a light woodland area, and to their left the sparkling azure sea that seemed to stretch further than the bifrost itself. The girls were chatting away happily, their words incoherent as their summer clothes whipping about in the occasional breeze. Their faces were blurred, but Leya knew them without having to look. _

_One girl had bright blue eyes and blond curls that rippled about her in glorious waves. Her easy laugh, delicate features and slender frame marked her out as a future beauty. Her name was Celeste, and she was nicknamed 'little angel' by her family and friends, with obvious reason. The other girl had brown eyes that were nothing special, brown hair that was thick and dull, and a smattering of freckles across her nose like paint. She was smiling, and her eyes were laughing, but next to her angel-friend...she did not even compare. She was plain is as plain does, and would remain that way. This was Leya. _

_Despite their physical differences, the two girls were the very best of friends, both still too young to know how the realm judged by looks and aesthetics. So they thought little of their appearance, treasuring instead each other's company and the simple pleasure of a summer's day._

_Alas, the pleasant day was not to last._

_While they walked, the girls were suddenly confronted by three other children who had emerged from the woodland. They were two boys and a girl, their clothes of a slightly better make than the two girls, and unkind sneers on their lips. The leader, the taller boy, stepped forward and began to address the young version of Leya, though for some reason his words were muted like he was miming. From his smirk and mocking eyes, he was obviously making fun of her. The other girl, Celeste barred him from her and attacked him with her own cutting words and flashing eyes. Young Leya assured her friend that she could handle him and angrily made her own retort to the boy who scoffed as his cronies laughed. Leya snapped again at him and he muttered something under his breath._

_Dream Leya, who was watching from afar, knew what would happen next and dreaded it. She wanted to cry out to her younger self, warn her of the impeding threat...but she was as voiceless as the characters in her dream, forced to watch helplessly._

_Young Leya snarled in anger and launched herself at the boy. He was taken by surprise and they fell to the ground, but he recovered quickly and began to fight back. The three other children watched as the two rolled around on the ground, veering dangerously close to the cliff edge. Celeste was crying for them to stop whereas the other girl and boy were egging their leader on._

_There was nothing anyone could do as young Leya slipped and nearly tumbled over the edge. She just caught her footing and was just scrambling to her feet...when it happened. In his anger, the boy shoved her, and Leya fell backwards._

_A loud scream pierced the quiet air as Leya plummeted to the ground below, rocks and crashing waves ready to greet her fragile body._

_Pain shot through Leya's body and for the briefest second she was flying high into the sky on the silver wings of a dove, away from the agony, away from the truth..._

_Light blinded her vision._

Leya woke up.

**Any questions? Any thoughts? Any critiques? I'd love to hear them all :)**


	6. Feline Fallacies

**Here, have an update...because you guys rock :D**

**By the way, any Lokitty fans here? You should like this chapter, and I shall say no more...**

It was a Monday and Leya was in good spirits. Yesterday, she had been able to visit Erika for the first time in nearly a month. The blind woman had been very understanding when Leya explained her new job and its demands, though she did caution the young servant about her prisoner.

"He may be behind bars but Loki is still dangerous," the woman had warned her, "you would do well to take utmost caution around him, and have no unnecessary interaction with him." Leya had told her that Loki all but ignored her, though Erika only pursed her lips and repeated her warning. The young servant was no fool, and she knew the wisdom in Erika's words. From the gossip she'd heard in the kitchens, Loki was well known as a trickster, a liar and even a womaniser, seducing many ladies of high rank into his bed before tossing them aside like toys. Fortunately, Leya knew he would never look at her in such a way...and for once she was thankful for her low status, plain looks and unattractive limp. Nevertheless, Leya was well aware that only she and Thor saw Loki on a regular basis, as the Allfather never visited and no-one else could enter the chamber. Her position was a delicate one, and Leya was relieved she had taken her father's teachings to heart and knew how to deal with prisoners of the troublesome and unpredictable variety.

Despite this, Loki had been improving and Leya was thrilled that over the past week he had begun to eat. He never ate the whole meal, but she noticed that bits of the food were gone, like a missing roll or slice of meat. She never commented on it to the God himself, but conveyed to Thor the positive change. The God of Thunder had been pleased and told her to inform him if things took a negative turn. Leya agreed, though she secretly hoped she would never have to seek out the prince again and reveal her deeds to Loki.

To say the God of Lies unnerved her was an understatement. Of all the Gods she had met and cared for, he was by far among the worst. And not for his arrogance or his refusal to acknowledge her, for that she had long learned to deal with, but it was his lack of feeling that worried her. It was all very well not caring for others, but Loki did not even seem to care for himself, and Leya found this troubling. He was a being so detached that his own existence was nothing to him. He was eating, yes, but almost mechanically; eating to live and not living to eat. Even in the small time she'd known him, Leya knew that Loki was a uniquely troubled God, and she dreaded to think what had led him to be so emotionless.

But this Monday was different, and Leya discovered, to her relief or fright (she hadn't decided), that Loki was not devoid of all feeling. She retrieved his lunch and was en route to the chamber. As she walked, nothing felt amiss and in fact she felt rather happy, but as soon as she entered the chamber she felt something was wrong. She stopped halfway to the hatch and frowned as the hairs on the back of her neck tingled slightly and she instinctively glanced into the cell. And that's when she realised – Loki was no-where in sight. Stepping closer to the bars, she peered through them cautiously. There were no feet on the bed, no tell-tale shadow behind the screen, and neither was anyone in the bathroom that was separated by a translucent wall. Could he have made himself invisible? But what would he gain from that...?

Something moved behind her and she turned carefully. To her surprise, a cat sat atop the first step that led out of the chamber. Leya's eyebrows rose in surprise as she registered it. Its fur was black as ebony, its body sleek and elegant like an acrobat. And yet there was something about it that told her it was no ordinary creature. Slowly, Leya lowered the tray to the ground and stepped towards the cat.

"How did you get in here?" she murmured gently, not wanting to scare it. The creature hissed at her, its hackles raising and she stopped moving. Leya eyed it uncertainly, noting the green of its eyes that did not seem at all natural. They were a deep, sea green and reminded her of...

Looking back at the cell, Leya went over it again, double checking that her eyes had not misled her. Turning back to the cat, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Loki?" she voiced aloud without thinking. The cat sat down atop the stair and blinked once at her, acting indifferent. Puzzled, Leya's eyes flicked back into the cell one last time and on a whim she swept it with magic. Nothing, it was empty. When she turned again, the cat was gone. In its place stood Loki.

Leya gasped, instinctively taking a step back. Her throat closed up as her situation rapidly descended on her. Her prisoner, Loki, was out of his cell...and not only that, he now stood before her, barring the only way out.

Swallowing, Leya remembered what her father had taught her about prisoners. They were people, after all, and could be reasoned with. Losing your head would get you nowhere, she had to remain calm.

"What are you doing, my lord?" she asked tentatively, trying to inject a firm tone to her voice.

"I wish to leave," Loki answered smoothly, almost civilly. Leya gave him an odd look, then she checked herself.

"You cannot leave, my lord," she told him levelly. Loki raised a questioning eyebrow and Leya felt the need to clarify.

"You have been sentenced by the Allfather and the Court of Asgard to a life imprisonment," she added.

"I am well aware of the sentence," Loki retorted harshly, "but I am weary of this environment and wish for another." Leya took a moment to gather herself,

"I am sorry, my lord, you cannot leave this room," she told him, her voice shaking only slightly as she met his gaze for the briefest second.

"And who would stop me?" Loki smirked, his eyes flashing a challenge.

"I would try," Leya answered truthfully. He was stronger than her in almost every way, she was sure, but that did not mean she would let him walk all over her. He wasn't the only one with pride.

"You?" Loki scoffed, "you are nothing but a crippled serving girl." Leya's eyes narrowed and she stood up a little straighter,

"That I may be, but I am also your jailer," she met his gaze once again, "and it is my job to ensure you remain comfortable and healthy...behind bars." Loki smiled horribly at her,

"And what a fine job you're doing," his voice dripped with sarcasm, splattering onto the floor like black poison. Leya counted to 5 in her head; anger was not the answer to her problems.

"My lord, I must ask you to please return to your cell," she addressed him cordially, head bowed.

"And if I refuse?" Loki quirked an eyebrow.

"Then I shall be forced to fetch my lord Thor," Leya informed him. Loki smiled thinly,

"But to do that you would have to get past me." At the back of her mind, Leya felt as if she were being toyed with, as a cat would a mouse. It was painfully obvious which part she played. Aware of the thin ice at her feet, she tried a different approach.

"My lord," she began politely, "we both know that you are by far the stronger being, both physically and mentally. But please know, though I cannot force you to return to your cell, I will not leave until you have done so." Loki narrowed his eyes and studied her carefully,

"All I ask," he stepped down and began to approach her, "is for you to open the doors and grant me passage from this room." Leya backed up as he came towards her, and quickly found herself up against the bars. Jumping at the contact, she steadied herself and stood firm, praying he would come no closer.

"I am sorry, my lord, but I cannot do that," she told the condemned God who stood a mere metre away.

"Whyever not?" his eyes gleamed slightly. It suddenly flashed through Leya's mind that she was not only talking to a God, but a powerful sorcerer and murderer. The walls seemed to close around her as she realised there was absolutely nothing to stop him from striking her down where she stood. Her father and Rolf would be the only ones to note her absence...but by the time they searched this far, she was sure her body would be long gone. A shiver shot through her whole body as she saw just how close death could be.

Terrified, Leya clung to her composure for all she was worth and swallowed, her throat bobbing nervously,

"It is my duty to the Allfather and to Asgard to keep you within this chamber. My loyalty to the realm takes priority in this matter, and I must refuse your lordships request to leave," she hesitated briefly, then added, "however, I will happily bring you anything from the palace, be it a book or other possession...it is yours." Loki closed his eyes and Leya knew her last statement had gone unheeded. When the Gods eyes opened again Leya saw that they danced with a dark, sultry power that she was certain had melted many women's hearts and tempted many to his bed. To have such a gaze directed at Leya was a first for the crippled young woman, and though she could not deny that Loki was handsome, she knew that this was a falsity, a mask. Loki would never give her such a look truthfully; he was using it to try and gain his freedom. Inwardly, Leya sighed at the ways of men and braced herself for a well-glossed performance.

Loki took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"I will reward you for your service," he told her in a silky voice not unlike black velvet, "anything you wish for, it is yours." Though she knew it had been coming, Leya couldn't help but smile, biting her lip to keep from laughing aloud. Irritated anger flashed in Loki's eyes and she knew she had to explain herself.

"My lord," she began hastily, "you should know that in all my years as a jailer I have been offered many things. Money, jewels, fine clothes, even varying degrees of power. Not once have I accepted, nor will I ever accept. My priorities are set in stone; I am not to be bribed," she looked him straight in the eye to drive her point home, but couldn't hold contact for long as the deep green threatened to drown her.

"What about healing for your leg?" Loki murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Leya winced visibly and took a breath to steady her fluttering heart.

"I can make it so that you never limp again, and you will be a cripple no more," he went on as Leya fought against her inner demons that had surfaced at his words, "all I ask in return is for you to open the chamber doors." Leya closed her eyes and took refuge in the dark, begging her mind to suppress the voices that cried out for healing. Breathing deeply, she quelled the urges within and stilled her frantic heart. This was just another test, and she could not fail...not now. Opening her eyes, she found Loki looking at her expectantly.

"No, my lord," she whispered. Annoyance flitted across Loki's face and his lip curled in anger,

"So be it, remain a cripple." Abruptly he turned and began to pace, still keeping himself between her and the way out. As suddenly as he started, he stopped pacing and turned back to her,

"If I can neither convince nor bribe you..." his features darkened, "then I have no choice but to threaten you." Leya's breath froze in her throat as fire danced in his eyes, threatening to reach out and burn her, char her heart and scar her body. She wanted to run, to flee from the monster before her, her instincts screaming at her to escape before she was sucked into the abyss of his malice. And yet, she was all too aware that if she turned tail now...she'd never look back. She would go back to the life she'd had before; she'd never have to see Loki again. Everything would be fine...except she wouldn't have the same income, her father would slip back into worry and stress, purses would have to be tightened again...

Her mind made up, she steeled herself and nodded at the God,

"Very well, my lord," she murmured. Loki gave a short bark of laughter,

"Are you not scared?" he asked humorously, his eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

"I am, my lord, very much so," Leya answered, looking at the floor.

"Good, then you have some merit of wisdom in that foolish mind of yours," Loki retorted in a cutting manner. Leya said nothing, keeping her gaze fixed at the ground at her feet.

Loki moved towards her again and she was thrown into shadow by his frame.

"You know I can make you suffer beyond your wildest dreams," he murmured to her, his breath cool on her forehead. It was no question, it was a fact.

"Yes," Leya whispered as her heart skipped a beat.

"And you still refuse me?" Loki moved an inch closer so that he was truly towering over her like a great crow, wings widespread to block the very light of the sun.

"Yes, my lord," Leya answered, praying with all her might the pain would be quick, "if it means delaying your escape that much longer." She closed her eyes and waited. Loki paused, then she felt him draw back back.

"So you think I wish to escape..." he mused aloud, apparently to himself, "how...predictably disappointing." In spite of herself, Leya frowned and opened her eyes.

"What?" she blurted.

"Foolish girl," Loki scoffed, "had I wished to be free I would have left this place long ago," he told her patronisingly. Leya risked glancing up at him as her mind whirred,

"Then..." she stopped short, suddenly remembering her place.

"Go on," Loki muttered in a low voice.

"Why have you not gone?" Leya blinked uncertainly, "and why ask me for permission to leave?"

"Why I have not left does not concern you," Loki answered dismissively, "and I only asked you to see how you would react to such a request. However, since it is obvious you are nothing more than a stubborn mule blinded by 'duty'...I grow weary of your braying." With that, Loki turned and walked back into his cell. Leya's mouth fell open slightly at the abrupt change in his manner, the way he so easily dismissed what had been said. Her mind struggled to keep up, slotting the pieces together slowly, leaving questions in its path. Had this really all been a wild game of his designed to test her merit? But why had he gone to such lengths? And why was he still here if he could leave?! It made no sense.

"Leave me," Loki ordered sharply, turning his back on her. More than a little puzzled, but aware there was nothing she could do, Leya replaced the old tray and made to leave.

At the doorway, she paused and glanced back. Loki was on the chaise long, ignoring her as he usually did, for all the realm acting as if nothing had transpired between them.

Troubled and confused, Leya turned on her heel and was gone.

**As always, your thoughts are very much welcome :)  
**


	7. From the Past

**Bit of a filler chapter...but important stuff still happens! And there's Loki, of course...**

**Enjoy :)**

Leya worried a little about Loki over the next few days, and often debated whether or not she should tell someone about their encounter. She certainly felt the urge to tell Thor, his kind and considerate manner would definitely mean he would hear her out and do what he could...but she was loath to include him for fear of what Loki would say, or do. However, the God of Magic had gone back to ignoring her completely, had not once ventured from his cage again (to her knowledge) and was eating more, so with this in mind she tentatively pushed her worries from her mind. Part of her was praying desperately that this behaviour would continue, though deep down she knew Loki was, at heart, completely unpredictable; she would never see his next move coming until it was too late.

For all her worrying over Loki, Leya did not expect to be hit out of the blue by a completely different matter, and before she knew it all thoughts of Loki were driven from her head.

It happened on an ordinary afternoon, not long after the encounter, and Leya was washing up in the kitchen. Stacks of used plates, pots and the like were to her left, and the wet clean ones were to her right. Angela, a young girl of 15, dried up and piled the dishes neatly into groups. The younger girl was quiet around Leya, and the older servant knew this was because she felt awkward conversing with Leya. As a cripple, Leya was used to people not knowing how to act around her, and despite her efforts to engage Angela in conversation, the girl remained vague and unresponsive. Still, they worked well together so Leya let it be, focusing on the task at hand. They picked up a good pace once they got into it, working almost like a machine with their efficiency. Leya couldn't help but wonder how much faster it would be if she use magic...

Their momentum was brought to a halt when there was a tap on Leya's shoulder. She turned to see Frederick, a stable boy and part time kitchen hand. He had mop-like hair and a goofy smile, with eyes that seemed eager to please with more than a hint of anxiety.

"Leya, sorry to interrupt you...but I'd like to introduce you to the new kitchen hand," Frederick smiled and gestured the person next to him who Leya hadn't noticed. The serving girl glanced over at them and her heart froze.

"Ingrid, this is Leya, she helps in the kitchen in the afternoons. Leya, meet Ingrid, our new kitchen maid," Frederick introduced them, though little did he know how unnecessary his words were.

The new maid was tall with glossy brown hair and sharp hazel green eyes. She held herself with pride and seemed to exude a haughty manner, as if she thought herself above others. Leya recognised her the second her eyes glanced the permanent sneer around her lips and callous gleam to her eyes.

"Hello Leya," Ingrid smirked ever so slightly.

"Ingrid," Leya nodded cordially. Frederick looked surprised,

"You know each other? That's great!" he exclaimed, oblivious to the brittle tension between the women, "Ingrid here has very kindly agreed to take over washing-up duty, so you can have a free afternoon," he smiled at Leya, "or you can find other work, it's up to you," he added with a shrug. Leya noted his words and gave him a cool look,

"I'm being dismissed," she said aloud, more as a statement than a question. Frederick shifted uncomfortably, looking down to avoid her gaze,

"Only from washing up," he mumbled, then glanced at Ingrid, "I'll let Leya show you the ropes." The young man quickly dismissed himself from the situation. There was a brief moment of quiet.

"So tell me Leya, after all these years are you _still _limping?" Ingrid asked with a sickly sweet smile. Leya flinched at her words as she remembered cruel laughter and the crowing of eager children.

"It has been a while, Ingrid," Leya answered quietly.

"You haven't changed," Ingrid sneered, "do you think you'll always be a plain cripple? Or are you thinking of growing a wart?" she giggled slightly at her own joke.

"You haven't changed either," Leya murmured softly. Ingrid laughed and began rolling up her sleeves,

"I have, actually. I'm engaged," she announced, proudly flashing a ring on her finger. Leya smiled thinly,

"Congratulations."

"To Gunnar," Ingrid added with a fleeting smile that cut like a knife into Leya's mind. Leya sucked in a breath as she felt like she'd been kicked in the gut. Taking a moment to breathe deeply, she counted to 5 in her head. Surely this was an unlucky day, two ghosts from the past...back to haunt her. In her mind, Leya could still see them as they had been.

Ingrid, a spoilt little girl, nasty and rude. She had been there, the day Leya fell, she had laughed as Leya was insulted by the boy, she had cheered him on in the fight by the cliff edge. The boy...his fine, blunt features still burned into her eyes as she relived him pushing her over the edge again and again. Gunnar...it was he. He was the one she'd fought that day, he was the one who'd pushed her off the cliff...he was the one responsible for her being a cripple. Yet he'd never been disciplined for his actions, or even made to apologise. The fuss over Leya's injury had been brief, and no-one seemed to care that she'd be crippled for the rest of her life. It was an unfortunate accident, nothing more.

Now, years later, Leya dreaded to think what had become of the boy. He would be bigger, stronger...fiercer. If he was anything like she imagined him to be...she was glad they had not crossed paths in years. The brute and the bitch...he and Ingrid were a well matched couple. To think that in all the years that had passed, neither of them had changed. The same could not be said for Leya.

As Leya thought, Ingrid pushed her aside and took over the washing up Leya had been doing. She struck up a pleasant conversation with Angela who had heard every word between them; the younger girl immediately responded with smiles and bright chatter. Knowing she was no longer needed, or wanted, Leya nodded to herself.

"I wish you both well," she muttered to Ingrid with all the honesty she could muster. The young woman ignored her.

Leya turned and walked away.

* * *

Entering the chamber, Leya quickly replaced Loki's lunch with his supper, hoping he would not notice her presence. She'd been reading in the library all afternoon and lost track of time...she was late, but this time she didn't really care. Out of the soothing atmosphere of the library, her thoughts of Ingrid and Gunnar had returned. Frowning, she turned to leave, anxious to go back to the library and immerse herself in another world...

"You are late," came a voice and she stopped short. Turning back, she found that Loki had not moved from where he lay on the chaise long, but she knew he'd spoken and wanted an answer. Leya bowed her head slightly,

"My lord, please accept my apologies for my tardiness..." she began, but he interrupted her.

"I did not ask for an apology," Loki snapped smoothly, then he paused a moment, "what ails you?" Leya frowned,

"My lord?"

"What ails you?" Loki repeated, not even looking at her. Leya shifted,

"I do not understand," she murmured hesitantly.

"You are late. Your body is tense and anxious. Your manner is absent and distracted. Why?" he spoke as if he were reading a list, like a doctor reading a diagnosis. Surprised he'd surmised so much simply from her presence, Leya bobbed her head,  
"I would not dare burden you with my petty problems, my lord," she replied humbly.

"Indulge me," Loki finally sat up and looked over at her, his eyes lazily flicking over to her own for the briefest moment. Hesitating, Leya thought what best to say next. Not one for lying, she settled for the truth.

"A young woman I knew as a child has arrived to work in the palace kitchens," she summarised quickly.

"There is animosity between you?" Loki asked distractedly.

"We have never been on good terms, my lord," Leya told him.

"And she is the reason for your discomfort," Loki concluded as a statement. Leya nodded,

"Yes, my lord." There was a pause.

"What rank is she?" Loki asked out of the blue.

"She is a kitchen maid, my lord," Leya answered. Loki shook his head once, the ghost of a smile about his lips,

"Then she is as low as you are, if not lower," he glanced up at her, "do not care for the opinions of those beneath you; it is a waste of time and energy." Leya blinked, taken aback by the way his words sounded like an order, and she wasn't sure how to respond. Loki gave her a look that indicated he wanted a reply, so Leya gave him a small smile.

"Thank you, my lord," she bowed her head politely.

"I do not need your thanks," Loki waved a hand dismissively and turned away. Bemused, but afraid to show it, Leya bobbed her head one last time before leaving the chamber. For a moment she wondered if Loki would ever make sense to her; truly he was like a dancing snake she'd seen once at the travelling circus, twirling and swaying but never once coming into focus through the haze. Loki was a God of smoke and mirrors; unpredictable, untameable, and unreachable.

* * *

"You, girl." Leya looked up from her book at the sound of the voice and saw a lady standing before her. Scrambling to her feet, she hastily closed her book and curtsied,

"My lady, I am sorry...I did not see you there," she apologised, wondering if she knew the woman. She was dressed in fine Asgardian attire, her shoulders adorned with expensive silk that trailed to the ground in a loose cape. Her hair was dark blond and held up within a tight bun, not a hair out of place, and her eyes were rimmed with dark kohl that highlighted the dazzling bronze within.

"No matter," the lady dismissed her apology, "you are Loki's jailer, are you not?" Leya nodded,

"I am, my lady." The woman held something out to her,

"Please give this to Loki." Leya hesitated, eyeing the letter in the woman's hand before taking it tentatively.

"My lady, forgive me..." she began with a small frown, "but I do not know if my prisoner is allowed letters." The lady gave her a dull look,

"It is just an informal letter," she replied, "no harm will come of it." Still, Leya was unsure.

"My lady, would you mind if I first asked my lord Thor if he would permit this?" she asked, flicking her eyes up to meet the woman's before lowering them to the ground in respect. Even her sandals were fine, painted gold leaf straps delicately encircling perfectly pedicured feet. The lady gave a brief sigh of irritation,

"Is that really necessary?"

"I'm afraid so, my lady," Leya told her quietly, still looking down. The woman tutted, then shook her head briefly,

"Very well, I shall find Thor. Come with me." Before Leya could respond, the woman took the letter from her and walked away. Leya's brow furrowed, and then the woman turned with an expectant look in her eyes. Obediently, the serving girl followed.

* * *

Leya waited outside one of the main chambers, feeling out of place beside the grand doors and polished statues. The lady had gone in to fetch Thor who was apparently in a meeting, and Leya had not been allowed in.

A moment later the door opened and the lady walked out, the God of Thunder in tow.

"Good afternoon, Leya," the God greeted her with a smile. Leya curtsied as deeply as she dared,

"Good afternoon, my lord," she replied.

"Thor, I wish for this letter to be delivered to Loki," the woman told the God, "but this serving girl insisted I first ask you." Thor nodded,

"That was good of you," he told Leya who smiled hesitantly.

"Indeed," the lady muttered, "but I still require an answer."

"I presume the letter is personal?" Thor asked, a slight knowing look to his eyes. The lady shifted slightly,

"It is," was all she said. Thor seemed to think for a moment, then looked at Leya,

"The Lady Sigyn is a good friend of Loki's...you may deliver her letter for her, and any responses he may have." Leya bowed her head and took the letter the woman handed to her,

"Very good, my lord," she turned to the Lady Sigyn, "I am sorry for refusing you earlier." The woman smiled thinly,

"No matter...should Loki reply my quarters are located in the far west wing of the palace." Leya nodded,

"Very good, my lady."

They dispersed, Thor back to his meeting, Lady Sigyn to the gardens, and Leya to the kitchen, for it was nearly 7:00pm. Entering the chamber with Loki's meal, she replaced the trays but left the old one on the floor. She held the letter in her hand and was surprised to find her palms sweating slightly.

"You have a letter, my lord," she announced through the bars of the cell. Loki sat hunched over a book and for a second made no indication he'd heard her. Then he turned, eyes narrowed. He looked as if he were to say something, but simply rose and came over. He held out a hand. Leya handed the letter over and watched as he ripped it open.

Picking up the lunchtime tray, she hesitated before leaving, curious to see how he would react to the letter. His eyes flicked from side to side as he read, and his face remained expressionless, like marble. The only semblance of a reaction Leya could gauge was the slight tightening of his knuckles around the paper, creasing it slightly.

His eyes stop moving and for a full minute he remained utterly motionless. Leya knew she should leave...but her curiosity had by now increased exponentially and she had to know at least a little more.

Without warning, the entire letter burst into green flames and Leya jumped, nearly tripping over her skirt as the paper was greedily devoured by the fire. Loki watched it burn calmly, the words on the page swiftly disappearing as the letter turned to ash, falling to the floor like black dust.

He abruptly turned away so his back was to her, as if blocking her from his mind.

"Never bring me a letter again...from anyone. Ever," he murmured, so softly Leya thought she might have misheard.

A small gasp escaped her as Loki turned to face her and she was immediately caught by his eyes. They were a deep sea-green and as unfathomable as the sea, a swirling pit of nothing with only the barest traces of feeling. He was angry...she thought, but she couldn't be sure. Leya bit her lip and struggled not to get swept away in the torrent of emptiness.

"Do you understand?" he whispered, fiercely, his voice deadly. Leya opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She tried again,

"Yes, my lord," she blurted, then clamped her mouth shut. Loki broke eye contact and stormed away, disappearing behind the screen by his bed. Taking her leave, Leya left as quickly as she dared.

It was only when she left that she realised her heart was beating fast, as if she'd just run a mile, and she took a moment to regain her breath. Wiping her forehead, she found it slightly damp with sweat. Looking back towards Loki's cell behind the closed doors, Leya thought...and wondered.

**Yes, I did just add a dash of Lady Sigyn to my story...and I shall say no more!**

**Thoughts, feelings and cookies welcome :)**


	8. Poison

**It's been relatively smooth sailing so far, hasn't it? Well here's something to shake you all up a bit...**

It had now been a whole month since Leya had first accepted the role of Loki's permanent jailer. At this point in usual jailer/prisoner relationships a mutual understanding had been reached and each individual knew where they stood. This was not the case with Leya, and she found herself having to constantly keep on her toes to ensure she avoided Loki's unpredictable anger. To say he was prone to mood-swings was, well...true. For days he would not so much as look up at her when she brought his food, and then suddenly he would request five items at once. His erratic behaviour puzzled Leya, but she dealt with it calmly and efficiently. Not a day went by when she didn't silently thank her father for teaching her the value of patience; for at the end of the day, Loki was more akin to a difficult teenager than the powerful God he was.

Life went on, and despite everything Leya was still happy. She no longer worked in the kitchens in the afternoon, thanks to Ingrid, and instead worked in the gardens every other day. When she wasn't in the garden or tending to Loki, she was in the library reading. She'd struck up a respectful friendship with Alfreik, the librarian, and he was always willing to help her if he wasn't otherwise occupied. Her father Bjorn was still working hard at the jail, but he seemed so much more relaxed than he had been and was smiling more. Rolf and the new assistant Faolan had become firm friends despite Rolf's inability to speak, and Leya was well assured the jail was flourishing under their care. All was well and sound, and Leya was content.

Of course, in a realm of magic and Gods...peace never does last for long.

There was nothing at the start of the day to suggest anything sinister, no dark clouds in the sky and no thunder. Breakfast came and went and Leya worked well in the garden, tending to the orchards that were just coming into fruit. Lunch arrived, and she headed for Loki's cell, oblivious.

Leya went into the chamber, and that is when the first slash at her peaceful existence was made.

Tray in hand, she crossed the room, only to pause when something caught her eye from within the cell. Leya frowned and set the tray down, moving over to the bars to get a better look. To her surprise, Loki lay sprawled on the ground by the table, unmoving. His eyes were closed, and he looked to be asleep.

"My lord?" Leya asked quietly, looking about further. The hairs on the back of her neck began to tingle just before she noticed his breakfast tray to the side. It was on the floor, the contents half spilled over, as if knocked by a clumsy hand. Alarm bells rang in her head as Leya looked back at Loki.

"My lord?" she cried louder. Loki's eyes snapped open, but even from her position Leya could see they were fevered, as if he were in great pain. Leaning closer, Leya saw barely discernible drops of sweat on his forehead, and his whole body was too tense...like he was paralysed. Leya clutched at the bars,

"My lord!" she called to him, "what ails you?" Loki scrunched his eyes shut as if in pain. With great effort, he turned his head to the side and opened them, gazing intently at something. Leya followed his gaze to where a small slip of paper lay on the floor, a smashed inkwell not far away. As she watched, it began to rise slowly from the floor, steadily moving towards her. Loki's face creased in pain, and Leya quickly reached for the paper with her magic and drew it to her. It was splattered with ink, and on it were scrawled a few words in sloppy curved handwriting.

'_Bring mustard, salt-water, coffee. Make haste.'_ Leya's brow furrowed and she looked up at Loki in confusion. What an odd combination of foods, though they rang a distant bell...

Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered. When she'd first worked in the herb garden, Iona had introduced her to the poisonous plants and told her how to work with them.

"Most of them could kill you," the gardener had said cheerfully, "but they all have antidotes, don't worry...providing you get them soon enough. Some are simple, like tea or mustard, but others require a healer's spell." Leya had listened as Iona outlined the basic antidotes for each plant, and she thought of one in particular. Hemlock...it killed through paralysis, stopping the heart from beating, stopping the lungs from breathing...the antidote was anything with a kick, like coffee and mustard. A sharp intake of breath left her as her mind drew the final conclusion – Loki had been poisoned.

Before she knew what she was doing, Leya was on her feet, note in hand, and running from the chamber as fast as her gammy leg would allow. It was still lunch-time so there were few people about, but she nevertheless received some odd looks as she pelted through the palace corridors, heading for the kitchen stores.

Only when she arrived did she realise that in her hurry, she'd forgotten that you needed a key for the store. She had no time to find the key so that meant...

Cursing softly, she looked about her to see if anyone was in sight. No-one was in the immediate vicinity, so she immediately focused her magic on the keyhole. It was a simple mechanism, but she'd never broken a lock before and wasn't entirely sure where to start. Her brow creased in thought, she flooded the keyhole with magic, and then tried to turn it as if it were an actual key. To her delight, and relief, the door clicked as the lock was disengaged. Hardly believing her luck, Leya checked the coast was clear before slipping in.

At once, she was surrounded by the smells of dried herbs, salted meat and vats of pickled vegetables. Her eyes flicked around as she looked for the jars of dry foods. She located the coffee beans and mustard seeds...up high on a shelf she couldn't reach. Stamping her foot in irritation, she eyed the ladder that was supposed to help her reach the top shelves. With her leg, it would take too long. Reaching up with her magic, she inched the jars off the shelf and brought them down to her. Unscrewing the jars, she grabbed a handful of each and shoved them into her pocket. She didn't bother putting them back, snatching a handful of salt from an open bag as she hurried from the room.

Within minutes of her leaving, she had returned to the chamber. But she felt it had been too long. Rushing over to the cell bars, Leya encountered her next problem. Loki was in there...and she was out here. The God's eyes opened and tried to look towards her; was it her imagination or could Leya see tears in his eyes?

In vain, she shook the bars of the cell. They stood firm, strong enough to hold back a God. Leya tried to squeeze through, but she couldn't fit and got stuck. Taking a moment to calm herself, she imagined her body to be like rubber, putty-like, stretchable, flexible...

Pulling her body, her eyes widened as she slipped through the bars, her limbs thinning to pass through and growing again once free. With no time to admire her feat, Leya rushed to Loki's side.

"I brought the antidote, my lord," she told him. Glancing around, she looked for a container she could use as a glass. She didn't trust the goblet from the kitchen, lying as it was on its side on the floor. Her gaze found to the bathroom and a thought struck her. Scrambling to her feet, she rushed towards the room, nearly hopping in her haste. It was small, but as well furnished as the rest of the cell, white and dazzling. But she wasn't looking for the porcelain toilet or marble bath big enough for at least three people...her eyes fell to the sink where a cup stood by the taps. Snatching it, she quickly filled it with cold water and hobbled back to Loki.

She found him lying peacefully, and for a moment she feared the worst.

"My lord!" she cried, and without thinking splashed a little water over his face. Loki jumped and his eyes shot open, anger blazing in them. Grateful he was still alive, Leya knelt beside him, ignoring the glare he was sending in her direction.

"I have water, coffee beans, mustard seeds and salt," she told him calmly, pulling the ingredients from her pocket. With a simple spell, she separated the salt grains from the coffee and mustard, dumping them into the cup to make salt-water. Poisons were not something she knew a lot about, but she did know that ingesting salt-water made one vomit; it was the best way to clear the stomach.

"My lord, can you sit up?" she asked him tentatively. Loki looked at her intently for a moment, then seemed to raise his head a few millimetres off the ground. Leya caught his head as it began to fall and gently raised the cup to his lips,

"This will make you sick," she said as he tried to drink, his throat bobbing as the liquid slipped down his throat. When half the glass was gone, she tried to withdraw, but he jerked slightly and she refrained, letting him drain the lot.

Almost at once, he began to retch and Leya heaved his body onto its side so he didn't choke. A moment later, Loki was sick on the floor, what little contents of his stomach emerging in a short burst of liquid. Leya winced slightly at the sight, but swallowed and held him steady until he'd finished.

Loki collapsed onto his back, away from the sick, and gasped lightly. He shot a look at Leya and looked intently at the glass. Understanding, Leya ran to fetch another glass of water from the bathroom. When she returned, Loki was struggling to sit upright, clutching feebly at a leg of the table. Setting the cup down, Leya did all she could to help him, propping him somewhat precariously against the table.

Loki raised his hand slightly and gestured her pocket. Removing the coffee beans and mustard seeds, Leya thought how she was to grind them. Putting them on the ground, she had a sudden idea and took off her shoe. Wrapping it in her dress, she began to pound the beans and seeds, grinding them with the heel of her shoe. The end result was a sort of ground up mix of coffee beans and mustard seeds...it was good enough for Leya.

Scooping a handful of the mix, she dumped it into the water and swirled it about with her finger. Very little dissolved, and she looked at Loki apologetically. The God ignored her, waiting for the drink. Hesitantly, Leya fed the vile concoction to the poisoned Loki, trying to suppress the nausea she felt in her stomach. Loki downed the mixture and shuddered, though the movement seemed jerky and irregular. Closing his eyes, Loki seemed to concentrate on something, and he frowned. Leya sat nervously beside him, wondering what he was doing.

Without warning, Loki's whole body spasmed as if he were having a fit, and he shifted onto his knees, couging violently. Leya leaned forward to help, but he flicked a hand at her, so she withdrew. He continued to hack like an old man with the flu, when suddenly something black sprayed from his mouth, dissipating before it hit the ground. Loki shuddered, stopped coughing and was still for a moment.

Leya sat, watching the God as he took a deep breath, and anxiety began to creep upon her. Now the immediate danger had passed...questions arose, and she was still in his cell!

Abruptly, Loki got to his feet.

Without even looking at Leya he pointed to the small pool of sick on the ground which promptly vanished, along with the rest of the coffee beans and mustard seed. Turning on his heel, he stalked off into the bathroom.

Slowly, Leya rose to her feet, only then realising that her hands were shaking. Reaching out, she leaned on the back of the chair for support, breathing deeply. Her heart was beating like a drum, thumping against her chest as if it wanted to break free. Closing her eyes, she sought to still it. What had just happened? It had come and gone so fast...and yet it felt like a searing scar in her mind...

Footsteps made her look up and she saw Loki emerging from the bathroom. Leya blinked. He looked...completely normal. There wasn't a trace of the fever, or the pain, or even the tears in his eyes. His turn out was as usual, immaculately dressed and carelessly elegant. He was a far cry from the hacking God she'd seen just seconds before.

With a flick of his hand, Loki cleared up the scattered contents of the meal and loaded them all onto the tray. With another gesture, the food went up in flames, causing Leya to jump slightly in shock. All that was left was the plate, goblet and cutlery. Loki paused a moment, then waved his hand over the tray. The meal seemed to reappear, but with bits missing, like he'd eaten some of it. It was as if nothing had happened. Leya frowned slightly at his actions...why was he erasing the evidence?

"You must tell no-one of this," the God muttered, his dark eyes flicking over to her own. Leya gave him a look, then checked herself,

"My lord..."

"No-one, not a word. Is that understood?" Loki hissed. Leya suppressed the urge to frown and began again,

"My lord, I cannot let this go unreported."

"You must," Loki murmured, taking a seat on the chaise long. Leya paused as she gathered her thoughts, trying to decide how best to get through to the stubborn God.

"My lord, you were poisoned...someone tried to _kill_ you," she told him, looking at him as directly as she dared. The corners of Loki's mouth twitched,

"That is nothing new." Leya blinked, and tried again,

"My lord, I must tell the guards of this incident..."

"You will do no such thing," Loki interrupted, "I forbid it."

"My lord, with all due respect...I cannot comply with your wishes," Leya bowed her head slightly, "this goes beyond my duties as a jailer and I must seek higher guidance."

"Am I not your superior?" Loki asked, his voice laced with almost playful poison.

"You are, my lord," Leya answered, "and you are also under my care." Loki said nothing, so Leya went on, pressing her point home,

"Never before has a guest under my care had an attempt on their life. And we do not know who it was, or if they will try again. I must inform the guards so that the culprit is found." Loki made a steeple with his hands and looked thoughtful for a moment,

"They will try again," he murmured. Leya's eyes widened,

"You know who did this?" she blurted. Loki sent a sharp glare in her direction and she looked down.

"Forgive me, my lord, but if you know the culprit...they must be stopped," she said to the floor. Loki laughed, a short bark of harsh laughter that took Leya by surprise.

"You know not what you speak of, girl," he retorted.

"Then I would beg you to enlighten me, my lord," Leya replied honestly. Loki gave her a shrewd look,

"No, I think not," he paused, "so you will not keep my secret?" he asked, a definite challenge to his voice. Leya drew herself upright,

"No, my lord," she told him truthfully, raising her eyes to meet his. Their gaze locked and for the longest time they simply regarded each other. Contact was broken by Loki who nodded curtly and rose to his feet,

"Then you leave me no choice," he began to advance on her and Leya backed away instinctively.

"My lord?" she asked, suddenly fearful as his eyes darkened. Her back hit the bars and she clutched at them...could she slip through in time? No, there was no way she could ever outrun him.

"I will wipe this event from your memory, you will have no recollection of the last half hour," Loki told her, almost soothingly, "it will not be painful." He reached out to the side of her head.

Leya ducked and moved away,

"My lord, I must protest!" she cried, "what good will come of my ignorance?"

"Life will go on," Loki muttered, stalking her like a panther would its prey. Leya came up against the other side of the cell and turned to face him; he stood mere feet away. Fear coursed through her veins, but even then she still had her strength...and pride. She was a living breathing being, as was he, and she had a right to stand for herself. Scrunching her hands into fists, she took up a defensive stance and stood as tall as she could, looking at the bridge of Loki's nose to avoid his eyes.

"My lord, I will not let you do this," she announced firmly.

"And pray, how will you stop me?" Loki asked mockingly, stopping just within arms distance.

"I cannot stop you, my lord," Leya answered, "but please hear me out." Loki paused a moment, then nodded slightly,

"I'm listening." Leya nearly smiled in relief before realising she had only brought herself a little more time. Immediately, her mind went to work, drawing on everything that had happened, pulling together arguments for and against her memory being wiped, trying to see things from his perspective.

"My lord, wiping my memory will not benefit either of us," she began, "for a start, I will not be able to inform the guards of the attempt on your life and the culprit will not be caught. If they are not caught, then they could try again, and due to my ignorance, I would be none the wiser. For all I know, all the food I bring you from now on could be poisoned, but I will not know this if I forget. Were this to happen again...we may not be so lucky next time," she finished hesitantly, eyeing him warily. Loki studied her,

"You are nothing but a serving girl, plain and crippled...why should I listen to your pathetic pleas?" he muttered carelessly Leya swallowed. She could argue, try and persuade him otherwise, flatter herself to gain his appreciation...but none of it would work. Only honesty and reason would serve her well.

"I am not pleading, my lord," she said carefully, "I am reasoning. I cannot stop you from wiping my memory, but I will not let you do so until I have spoken my mind."

"What would you have me do?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. He seemed genuinely curious, but Leya could tell the clock was ticking. She had to reach a compromise...

"It is clear you will not let me speak with the guards of this, or anyone else, for that matter..." she thought, "therefore, were I unable to tell anyone, your secret would be safe." Loki rolled his eyes,

"Hence why I am wiping your memory." His hand stretched towards her temple, and Leya reacted instinctively. Reaching up, she barred his arm from her head, words desperately pouring from her mouth,

"Silence me, but do not make me forget. I will not speak of this to anyone, but I will know what has happened and be more vigilant in the future."

"How?" was all Loki said.

"I'll learn to recognise poisons and ensure your food is never tainted again, and I will search for the culprit," Leya blurted. Loki withdrew his hand, a thoughtful look upon his face. Turning away, he began to pace the room.

Leya eyed the bars, but knew escaped would be futile. So she simply remained still and awaited his decision.

Seconds ticked by without a word from either of them.

Finally, Loki turned on her.

"I will place a spell upon you so that you cannot speak of this event to anyone in any way, be it by word of mouth or pen on paper," he told her with an air of finality, "and if you somehow break this spell, which I doubt, I will find you, and I will wipe your memory so that you will not even remember who you are. Is that understood?" The threat was a knife pointed at Leya's heart, and she knew it to be a genuine one. She nodded once,

"Yes, my lord," she answered, surprised her voice wasn't shaking.

"Open your mouth," Loki ordered, stalking over to her. Hesitantly, Leya complied. Loki pointed at her and something erupted from his finger, flinging itself into Leya's mouth and down her throat. She coughed and her throat bobbed nervously; she felt as if she'd swallowed a bitter tasting pill.

"Leave me," Loki dismissed her, turning away to his bed without another look at her.

Leya left the cell and retrieved the tray from breakfast, her eyes lingering on the lunch time tray with its apparent meal.

As she reached the door, she turned back momentarily as a question that had been nagging at her for a while echoed loudly in her head. It blared at her like an alarm, but she knew she would have to wait a long time for an answer. It was a simple question, but one that even philosopher's had debated over for centuries.

Why?

**So...yeah, I went there...but where did I go, exactly? **

**I would LOVE to hear what you think of this...is Loki in character? Is this believable (within reason)? Are you even enjoying this story?!**

**Please do leave a review and I will love you forever :)**

**By the way, the ride gets a little more interesting from now on, so buckle your seat-belts folks, it's gonna be a bumpy ride...  
**


	9. Tricks and Trinkets

**Summary of the past month...**

**Me: Ok, so I want to try and post a chapter a week as I've got a good feeling about this story, so if I...**

**Life: HAHA. IN YOUR DREAMS. FIRST YOU'RE ON HOLIDAY, THEN YOU'LL HAVE WRITER'S BLOCK, THEN IT'S VALENTINES DAY WHICH WILL TAKE MORE THAN A DAY, THEN IT'S YOUR BOYFRIEND'S BIRTHDAY, AND THEN YOU'RE BUSY FOR THE NEXT WEEK AN WON'T GET ANY FREE TIME UNTIL YOU CATCH A COLD!  
**

**Me: Thanks...**

**So here's an update from an ill Magic...enjoy :D**

Leya slept fitfully that night; diving in and out of consciousness, fast asleep one minute and wide awake the next. Her dreams were disturbed, and when she woke her throat dry as she thought she tasted something bitter on her tongue. It was always nothing, yet still the memory of the poison haunted her. Loki had said nothing when she brought his evening meal, and she was half afraid to go home unless a similar thing happened. But Loki was no fool, that much she knew; he would not be caught off-guard again. Still, Leya worried. She did not practise magic that night.

The morning came and Leya awoke feeling anxious and little refreshed, her body keen to return to her warm bed and take shelter from the day. She ignored it and went on regardless, getting dressed for the new day and preparing breakfast for her father and Rolf. Leya knew Rolf could sense something was troubling her, and she deliberately ignored his pointed looks, working fast and efficiently to avoid being cornered.

Loki's breakfast was picked up from the kitchen as per usual, but Leya couldn't help but feel apprehensive as she held the tray at arm's length. What if this food was poisoned? How could she know for sure? The walk to Loki's cell was long, and her feet were heavy. She'd said she'd find out who the culprit was, but in truth she hadn't a clue. The kitchen was open to so many people; anyone could have slipped the poison into Loki's food. And she didn't know how to identify poisons, she only knew what they looked like in plant form.

"Is the food contaminated?" was the first thing Loki asked as she entered. He didn't move from where he sat at the table, but she could tell he was watching her in his own way.

"I do not know, my lord," Leya replied, setting the tray down and looking at the ground to hide the trace of shame she felt washing over her. For a moment there was quiet and Leya wondered if she should leave.

"Come here," Loki said out of the blue, rising to his feet in one slick movement. Leya frowned slightly at his words,

"My lord, I cannot."

"And yet we both know you can," Loki turned to her, his eyes challenging.

"That was under exceptional circumstances, my lord," Leya pointed out firmly.

"Would you rather I came to you?" asked Loki, raising an eyebrow.

"No, my lord," Leya stepped up to the bars, "but for what purpose do you require my presence within your quarters?" Loki's mouth twitched slightly,

"You do not know how to recognise toxins in food, nor will you be able to of your own accord," he told her bluntly, "I will teach you." Leya blinked in surprise,

"You'll teach me?" she blurted without thinking. Loki rolled his eyes,

"Are you deaf as well as ignorant?"

"My apologies, my lord," Leya answered quickly, then hesitated, "I would be grateful for the tutoring." Loki nodded and gestured for her to enter. Leya paused only briefly, before her mind leapt ahead and made her decision before reason could object. Shifting her body into position, she melted through the bars as she had done yesterday, emerging into the cell. Leya took a breath as she felt the energy leave her; last night had done her no favours and she was not as energised as usual.

If Loki was surprised by her sudden compliance, he made no comment. He gestured the chair where he'd been seated,

"Sit there," he ordered. Leya obeyed, suddenly very aware of the danger she was putting herself in. He could kill her right here right now, or worse. Here she was, in a cell with a God condemned to eternity in prison for massacring another race, a God whose power would forever be beyond her comprehension...and yet she felt safe. Perhaps 'safe' wasn't the right word, but Leya could not deny the strange feeling of trust she felt, an assurance that all would be well. What was it her father always said? _Before you can get someone to trust you, you must first make them feel trusted._ Maybe this was her chance to gain Loki's trust and level the playing ground a little...

The God placed two identical goblets in front of her, both filled with fresh water.

"One of these goblets contains a poison," he told her, "you must discover which one."

"How, my lord?" Leya asked, not looking up as he towered over her even from a good foot away.

"Use that which you know and make your decision," Loki rested a hand on the back of the chair and Leya sat up a little straighter. Taking a breath, she began to examine the goblets in front of her. Tasting them was out of the question, so she settled for other senses, smelling both liquids, studying both with an intense gaze, even touching both to see if either was hotter or thicker. Once she'd concluded that there was no difference she could discern by her senses, she called on her magic to aid her. She prodded each goblet in turn with her magic, searching for anything that would separate one from the other; with little success. Brow knotted slightly, she glanced up at Loki,

"I cannot see," she told him, meeting his gaze for only a brief moment. Loki nodded as if he'd known she'd fail.

"You examined them both thoroughly, yes?" he asked with great certainty.

"Yes, my lord," Leya nodded.

"And yet you did not examine them close enough," Loki told her curtly, "you must abandon your senses and use only your magic to discern which one is poisoned. Try again." Leya shifted slightly in her seat, but diligently closed her eyes, shutting off her senses as best she could. Calling her magic to her, she sent it once again to the goblets, this time diving inside the liquid, commanding her magic to seek out the toxin. What felt like tiny sparks zoomed around each goblet, like miniature fireworks. Leya opened her eyes and saw nothing, but the sparks continued. Then, before her, one of the goblets rippled slightly, the liquid changing momentarily to a deep purple colour and back. Simultaneously, the sparks seemed to wither and die in the same goblet, fizzing out like spent sparklers at a carnival. Satisfied with her findings, Leya withdrew all the sparks and let out a breath.

"That one," she pointed to the goblet that had changed colour.

"Why?" Loki demanded.

"Because my magic showed me it was poisoned," Leya explained.

"How?"

"Because the liquid turned a deep purple for a brief moment and the magic in that goblet was soured," she told him patiently. Loki's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly and he looked at her carefully for a moment, as if thinking to himself.

"Your mother has magic," he said aloud, out of the blue. Leya blanched visibly and looked down as her cheeks paled, biting her lip as a shock of emotion bolted through her. Loki seemed to pause, noting her reaction,

"You are estranged from her?" he asked with curious bluntness.

"She is dead, my lord," Leya murmured to her knees, her hands folding in front of her. Another moment of quiet passed.

"You did not know," Loki whispered a little breathlessly, his mind finally drawing the conclusion from the events that had unfolded.

"My lord?" Leya asked, glancing up at him. Loki looked down at her and blinked,

"Your mother _had _magic," he told her. Leya's mouth opened and closed a few times until she closed it firmly to avoid looking like a fish.

"H-how do you know, my lord?" she enquired delicately, wondering how in Asgard he could have deduced such a thing from so little information. Even her own knowledge of her mother was limited, and her father never spoke of her.

"You are naturally talented with magic, hence why you were able to discern which goblet was poisoned with only a little prompting," Loki began to explain, "natural talent descends through blood and I have seen your father; he is not a sorcerer. Therefore, your mother must have been a sorceress of mediocre capability." Leya couldn't help it, her eyes widened and her forehead creased as surprise broke across her features,

"A sorceress?" she echoed distantly.

"Your mother was a sorceress, yes," Loki clarified, indulging her repetition for once, "though she was of no great talent, I assure you. She passed enough power to embed you with magic, but should you have any dreams of becoming a powerful Goddess of Magic, then I must disappoint you. Your power is natural and will come easily, but you will never achieve more than the basics and mayhaps a few spells of medium power." Leya was well aware of her mind how rude he was being, but she let it pass, still in awe of this new discovery. Her mother had been a _sorceress!_ She'd often wondered where she obtained her magic, as her father was as common as they come...but despite its simplicity, the idea it had come from her mother hadn't crossed her mind in any major way. All her life, she'd known so little of her mother due to ignorance and an unwillingness to pain her father. Yet now she knew more. Leya smiled, a beam that lit up her face with joy,

"Thank you, my lord," she looked up at Loki, her voice deep and meaningful. Loki raised an eyebrow,

"You are welcome, though I fail to see what has made you so happy." Leya blushed and looked away, trying to compose herself. Loki let out a noise and it took a moment for her to realise that he was chuckling, very lightly, almost imperceptibly, but it was there. Of course, as soon as she turned back she found only his composed face and piercing eyes.

Loki waved his hand and the liquid in the goblets disappeared. A moment later three identical goblets appeared and soon there were five goblets of liquid before Leya.

"Again," was all Loki said. Inwardly, Leya sighed...and smiled.

* * *

"Leya!" The servant looked up from where she was weeding to see two figures approaching. One was her fellow gardener Iona, the other...Lady Sigyn. Scrambling to her feet, Leya brushed the dirt from her dress and tried to make herself vaguely presentable.

"This lady wishes to speak with you," Iona told her cordially before curtsying and taking her leave. Leya bobbed slightly and waited for Lady Sigyn to speak. She wore a light cream toga that seemed to hang about her in such a way that it accentuated her curves and billowed at the same time. Her hair was half up and half down, stray strands licking around her neck like tongues of gold fire. Her face was perfect, the barest hint of make up to just highlight her features, making her naturally breathtaking. Amongst the trees and flowers, she could have been a Goddess of the Earth.

"I presume you delivered my letter?" the Lady asked. Leya nodded, shifting with slight discomfort as she remembered what had happened only a few days earlier.

"I did, my lady," she replied somewhat hesitantly. Sigyn frowned ever so slightly,

"And?"

"My lady, forgive me...but my Lord Loki does not wish to receive any further letters from anyone." A small smile came to the woman's lips,

"He read the letter?" she asked.

"He did, my lady," Leya confirmed. Sigyn nodded slowly,

"What became of the letter?" Leya looked down as a flush crept over her cheeks,

"He burnt it, my lady," she murmured quietly. Sigyn said nothing and Leya looked up anxiously, wondering if her silence was an angered one. To her surprise, Sigyn was smiling a secretive, knowing smile.

"How typical," she muttered, a gleam in her bright brown eyes, "with green fire." Leya blinked in surprise,

"Yes, my lady." Sigyn smirked ever so slightly at Leya's look of surprise,

"Don't be surprised; I know Loki far better than any woman ever has...or ever will." Without waiting for a reply she drew an envelope from the folds of her toga,

"I suppose then that you won't give him this." Leya bowed her head,

"I'm sorry, my lady, but I must follow the wishes of my lord." Sigyn sighed,

"Very well," Sigyn paused, as if thinking, "if you will not deliver my letter...perhaps you can deliver this instead?" She held up something she'd retrieved from her pocket and Leya's eyes widened slightly. It was a necklace, and the pendant that hung from it was simple but breathtaking nevertheless. It was a small stone, about the size of Leya's thumb, and all different shades of green; from grass green to a deep sea green with streaks of black woven through like veins. It looked harmless so Leya took it with only slight hesitation. A thought popped into her head and she blanched inwardly as it blossomed into a question; was Sigyn the one who'd poisoned Loki? Leya didn't think it likely, but she knew next to nothing of their relationship and her suspicions were aroused.

"Well?" Sigyn asked with a little impatience. Leya glanced up at her,

"My lady, forgive me, but what is this?" Sigyn sighed with exasperation,

"It is a token, nothing more. Loki will understand," she replied vaguely. Seeing no valid reason to refuse, and sensing nothing particularly off-putting about the stone, Leya bowed her head,

"It will be done, my lady."

"You have my thanks," was all Sigyn said before walking away, barely giving Leya time to bob awkwardly in farewell. The servant looked down at the stone that lay in her palm, motionless, harmless, and as far as she could tell, meaningless. It was a pretty stone, nothing more. Yet...at the back of her mind, Leya knew that it was more than just a stone; Lady Sigyn had said Loki would understand thereby indicating it was more than a stone to Loki. Slipping the stone into her pocket, Leya resolved to find out what the stone was come this evening.

* * *

Leya looked down at the tray of food and scanned it for poisons. What Loki had taught her that morning had come in handy and she could now examine solids and liquids for intoxicants; it was only a matter of finding the poison which was almost always in liquid form. The process was lengthy, but she was sure that with time it would become easier. Satisfied the food was clean, she drew the necklace Lady Sigyn had given her and studied it one final time, debating whether or not to take it to Loki.

"What's the hold up, girl?" snapped a voice and she turned to see the cook heaving a pot of stew by her, "that's valuable space you're wasting." Obediently, Leya placed the necklace on the tray and left silently, ignoring the sniggers from nearby kitchen hands. She'd never been popular in the kitchens, there was too much against her as a cripple and the feared God Loki's jailer. However, ever since Ingrid had arrived her popularity had plummeted from 'politely ignored' to 'object of mockery'. Ingrid had no doubt been spreading lies about the place about her, and since she no longer worked in the kitchens, Leya was in no position to counter them. It was now apparent that her dismissal from the kitchen staff was a blessing in disguise.

Her feet padded down the palace corridors, the route to Loki's cell long engraved in her mind. She kept glancing down at the necklace, wondering if Loki would even notice it. She'd find out soon enough.

Loki was lying on the chaise long when she entered, showing no indication of acknowledging her presence. Since her lesson this morning there had been no further interaction between them, and Leya was becoming accustomed to Loki's unpredictable tendencies. He knew she was here, that much she was sure; but he never acknowledged her unless he had something to gain. She switched the trays and made to leave.

"Wait," came a voice, one that was now so familiar to Leya's ears. She paused and turned back to the cell, intrigued; had he once again deduced her thoughts simply from her body language?

"My lord?" she asked, almost mechanically. A rogue thought burst through her and she wondered if she'd ever call him Loki. She dismissed the thought with a irritated flush; she was a servant and he a God...they would never be on first name terms.

Slowly, Loki rose to his feet and looked at her for a brief calculating moment. His eyes flicked to the tray in her hands to the tray she'd just delivered. He seemed to balk slightly at the sight of the necklace, his eyes narrowing and fire sparking in their depths before composure was restored.

"What did she want?" he murmured, a trace of steel to his voice. Leya knew better than to feign ignorance,

"She asked about the letter," she answered, "and wanted me to deliver another. I told her you had requested no letters, so she asked me to give you the necklace," she gestured the pendant.

"Why did you not refuse?" Loki's eyes met hers and flashed once in apparent anger. Leya took a step back, then swallowed, standing her ground.

"You requested no letters, my lord, and I stand by that request," she told him, biting her tongue to prevent herself from pointing out that the necklace was not a letter. But from the look in Loki's eyes, he already knew her thoughts. He let out a breathless, mirthless laugh,

"So you did," he muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm, "then heed this _request_," he locked eyes with her and Leya gasped slightly at the storms within, feeling as if she could be swept off her feet and into the abyss of his gaze, "I want nothing from no-one, no letters, no pendants, no charms. Nothing. And if you try and be clever with me again...you will regret it." Leya broke contact and looked at the floor before she drowned in the green,

"Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean to offend you. I shall bring you nothing but food and anything you yourself request from now on," she whispered desperately, filling in the holes to make sure the ground stayed reasonably level. Loki said nothing, and it was a full half minute before she dared to look up again. The God's eyes were back to normal, all trace of anger and sarcasm vanished as quickly as it had come; replaced with...Leya frowned slightly. He almost looked...amused.

"Your fear is almost palpable in the air," he muttered mockingly, a smile playing about his lips. Leya flushed and nodded,

"I fear with good reason, my lord," she murmured quietly. Loki's smile widened into a cat like grin,

"That you do, and wisely so. You should be thankful that you are frightened of me, there are many idiots here who would seek to challenge me or, even worse, fool me," he told her drily, "but your fear keeps your actions in check, and that is to be noted in your favour." Leya blinked and frowned slightly before nodding hesitantly,

"Thank you, my lord."

"But you are naive," Loki went on as if she hadn't spoken, "and plain, and dull...which is almost a shame. And once again, I am bored of you," he waved his hand without waiting for a reply and the necklace flew from the old tray to the tray in Leya's arms, "return this to her, and should she seek you out again take nothing from her. Is that understood?" Leya bobbed slightly,

"Yes, my lord." Loki nodded once,

"Leave me."

"Good night, my lord," Leya replied before she left, battling her confusion with a worn out sigh. Returning the tray to the kitchen, she washed up the plates and cutlery in silence; she would return the necklace tomorrow, after breakfast, as it was too late now. On a spur of the moment decision, she asked around in the kitchen if anyone had seen anything suspicious yesterday around lunchtime, when the poison had been administered. No-one had seen anything unusual, and Leya was left none the wiser about the would-be-poisoner. On her way home, her mind was clouded by what Loki had said. Mayhaps he was right when he named fear as her ally, but Leya still felt a sting of pride at his words, true though they were. Not for the first time she thanked her stars Loki could not read her mind, to her knowledge, and hoped it would remain that way.

A smile flashed across her face as she remembered what he'd said about her mother - a sorceress! She couldn't tell her father, but in a way she didn't want to; this was her little piece of information about the mother she'd never known, hers to treasure. And it was Loki who'd given it to her. She tilted her head up in thought, her eyes trailing the night sky to view the thousands of stars that lit her path home, and she wondered. She was finding out very little about Loki, so maybe, since he was so perceptive, she could abandon trying to comprehend him...and have him help her comprehend herself?

**I re-watched 'Sherlock' recently, and I have to say, Sherlock and Loki would make the best of friends...or frenemies. You decide.**

**By the way, a couple of you have asked whether Leya is inspired by Jane Eyre, and while I never thought of her when writing Leya's character, I can see why you'd think that. Leya and Jane are similar, I guess...but it's up to you if you think Loki is Mr Rochester...!**

**Your reviews are my vitamins - they give me a boost :)**


	10. Loki's Chamber

**Ok...wow. Guys, this story had been gradually moving down my list of priorities...until 'Guest' reviewed. G, I don't know who you are...but your review spurred me back into action and I wrote this all practically in one go. So I just wanna say...thank you, so much! Reviews like that don't just make my day, they make my week :D**

**Thus, I have Chapter 10 for you, and I hope you enjoy it! I won't remind you to review at the end...you'll see why ;P**

Leya knocked on the door and glanced down at the necklace clasped in her hand. It was just before breakfast, and she'd arrived early in order to locate Lady Sigyn's quarters and return the pendant. A moment later the door opened and a young woman peered out, a handmaiden by the looks of her attire.

"Yes?" she asked Leya, her expression neutral and somewhat bored.

"I have been instructed to return this to the Lady Sigyn," Leya told her, holding up the necklace. The handmaiden eyed it with a frown,

"I don't recognise it…" she began.

"Who is it, Helena?" came a voice and there was movement from beyond the door. Helena looked back, opening the door to display the visitor,

"A serving girl, my lady. She claims she has something to return to you." There was the rustling sound of fabric and Lady Sigyn appeared in an embroidered silk gown, her hair loose and un-brushed, her face clear of any make-up. Leya could not help the small spark of envy that was set off in her at the sight of how beautiful Lady Sigyn looked, despite the fact she had just gotten out of bed.

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she caught sight of Leya, then she glanced down at the pendant and her expression fell. She sighed,

"Did he say anything?" she asked, taking the necklace.

"Only that he does not wish to receive anything from anyone, my lady," Leya replied courteously. Sigyn appeared to roll her eyes and muttered something under her breath that Leya didn't catch.

"My lady?" she asked, unsure if it was directed at her. Sigyn shook her head dismissively,

"No matter, thank you for returning this."

"You are welcome, my lady?" Leya bobbed a wobbly curtsy and the door was closed.

* * *

"Who have you told about the poison?" Loki asked the moment Leya entered the chamber with his lunch. He seemed to be getting into the habit of sporadically questioning her the moment she entered, or not talking to her at all; through the randomness of his interactions with her, Leya was beginning to see a pattern. She blinked in surprise at his question, her brow creasing,

"No-one, my lord."

"I know," Loki answered drily, then sat up abruptly, "you have not even _tried_ to tell anybody. I am almost disappointed, were it not so predictable," he murmured, apparently to himself. There was a pause as Leya politely ignored his last comment and switched the trays, wondering if this was the beginning of another game of his.

"Why?" he looked up at her with blunt curiosity.

"Because you placed a spell on me so I cannot tell anyone," Leya replied, a little curtly. Loki smirked,

"You think I have placed a spell on you?"

"No, my lord. I know you have," Leya answered smoothly, finding herself not in the mood for his games. She knew the reasons why, and part of her was anxious to leave so she wouldn't have to worry about snapping or worse. Loki simply looked at her, his eyes unmoving, as if he were a statue.

"Is there anything I can bring you, my lord?" she asked to break the silence, subtly turning towards the exit in a gesture she knew he would understand.

"Yes," Loki answered swiftly, then fell silent. Leya had to restrain from grinding her teeth as the quiet progressed, and she knew he was indeed playing games with her from the way his eyes were dancing fiercely as they looked at the ground, the trace of a smirk on his lips. Loki continued to ignore her for a moment more, and Leya considered just walking out. But no, she would remain calm…despite what her body felt like doing.

"Have you discovered the culprit yet?" Loki asked out of the blue, his eyes rising to meet hers, a goading challenge burning within them.

"No, my lord," Leya looked at her feet, "I asked around the kitchen but no-one has seen anything suspicious recently. And both the herb garden and the kitchen are open to the majority of palace staff and residents, so in truth any one of them could have had the chance to poison your food." Loki nodded once, apparently satisfied,

"A fair deduction, but one that will get you no-where. You will not find the culprit. Have you practised what I taught you?"

"I have not, my lord, but I will," Leya told him truthfully. Last night was her second night running without magic practise, but she needed the sleep and her body came first. Loki rolled his eyes,

"Without practise, you will not increase your power. Identifying toxins is a simple spell that even one of your low class could master, in time. You must practise, or else your abilities are wasted." Leya bit her tongue and nodded once, surprised to find her eyes stinging slightly. She was used to the harsh barb that was Loki's tongue, but now was really not a good time for it to strike. Despite her fear and submission, Leya still had her base pride at heart, and Loki never failed to injure it in short, sharp pricks. On top of this, her lunar cycle had just started and her emotions were already unbalanced. Taking a deep breath, she counted to 10 to calm herself.

"What is the matter with you, girl?" Loki snapped, obviously noting her discomfort.

"My lord, forgive me," Leya hastened to reply, swallowing quickly, "I will practise what you have taught me." Loki's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed her, and she could almost see the cogs of his mind clicking together as his brain ticked over in constant thought.

"Do you know where my old quarters are?" he asked suddenly. Leya shook her head, relieved for the change of subject,

"I do not, my lord."

"The northern tower, to the west of the palace, there is a black door with a silver handle. In there is a small wooden staircase, and half way up the stairs is a tapestry. The stone immediately behind the tapestry contains a book. Bring it to me." Leya replayed the instructions in her head, and then nodded,

"Of course, my lord, I shall go at once." She bobbed a quick curtsy and made to leave as fast as she could.

"Wait," she turned back to Loki, "you will need some of my magic to move the stone." Leya's eyebrows shot up,

"Your magic, my lord?" she blurted. Loki gave her a look and she looked down, flushing.

"Just a small amount, a touch should do it. Give me your hand," he stood up and held his hand through the bars, offering it to her. Tentatively, Leya balanced the tray and reached out to him, eyeing his hand as if it were a venomous snake. He caught her hand impatiently and Leya nearly jumped as his cool skin touched hers. His flesh was flawless and smooth, and chilled to touch, just like marble. The contact was brief and Leya felt nothing more than a small pulse of warmth at her finger tips before he withdrew.

"Go," he told her, "you will be able to get in now." A little bewildered, Leya swallowed and nodded. As soon as she left the chamber she studied her hand for any difference. It looked and felt normal, yet he had done something to it. Dismissing it as another thing she was yet to understand, she set off for the kitchen, and after that, the tower.

* * *

Leya stared up at the door to the northern tower. It was normal in size, rounded at the top with no additional decoration, but the wood was as black as ebony, and the handle elegant and silver, just as Loki had described. Carefully, Leya placed a hand on the handle and applied pressure. The door opened without hindrance, its hinges not even squeaking as it swung forwards, giving her entrance. Reassuring herself that she was on an errand and therefore had reason to be here, Leya went in.

She found herself in a large circular room with rafters and a pointed roof above her, with one magnificent window dominating the scenery, raised and arched with heavy navy green curtains draped either side, letting only cracks of light into the room. A bed lay to her left, big enough for five people, swamped by an emerald blanket and plump white cushions. To her right was a tall bookshelf crammed with books of all shapes and sizes, and to the far left was a wardrobe, dark and formidable looking, as if hiding a world within. By the window was a raised platform with stairs curving down to the floor along the wall. On the platform was the largest telescope Leya had ever seen, with star charts decorating the wall beside it. Under the platform, just tucked out of view, was a desk and chair, with a smaller bookshelf and cabinet beside it.

The whole room exuded grandeur, wealth, class and intelligence, and Leya could well imagine Loki having lived here. Yet, she had never been in a lonelier room. Everything about it cried out in neglect; the bed was too neat, unslept in, the shelves too tidy and sprinkled with dust. The room was completely and utterly empty, and had been for many months, if not years. It seemed to dwell in a state of abandonment, as if resigned to remaining empty for the rest of existence. Leya's heart strings pulled in sorrow, a gentle acknowledgement of the lonely room and its lonely ways.

Muffled bird song reached her ears through the drawn curtains and with little thought she climbed the stairs to the platform. Grabbing a handful of the thick material, Leya gave it a firm tug. Light poured into the room and the whole place seemed to blink in a daze, the colours of the place thrown askew in the sudden bright. Leya sneezed as dust rose in small clouds from the curtains and she retreated down the stairs, letting the particles dance in the new light.

Reminding herself of her mission, Leya looked to the stairs. As Loki had mentioned, a tapestry hung half-way up the stairway, depicting the great tree of Yggdrasil in all its splendour, detailing each and every realm known to the Asgardians. Leya studied it for a moment before gently pulling aside the fabric, revealing the bare stone behind. The walls were made of grey stone, and had Leya not known better she would have thought nothing of the stone behind the tapestry; it looked just like the rest, if a little larger. Reaching out, she touched it briefly, hoping that whatever Loki had done to her hand would work.

Leya jumped as the stone immediately slid away from her, and she felt something drain from her hand. Eyes wide in fascination, she watched as the stone rotated itself, and she realised as it came to a halt that it was hollow. As Loki had said, there was only one item in the stone; a book.

Carefully, she took it out and studied it briefly. It was old, very old, and the pages were broken in places, the spine well-worn but still intact. Faint letters were visible on the front cover, faded in age, but legible nevertheless; The Book of Sorcery. Leya itched to open the book and explore its contents, but she restrained herself, knowing full well it could anger Loki if he thought she'd tampered with his possessions. Still, it was tempting, and she tucked the book safely under her arm before she could give in.

Glancing at the stone, she wondered if she needed to do anything to close it. Even as she thought it, the stone rotated once more, melting back into the wall. Leya let the tapestry fall back in place, and her eyes were caught once more by the complexity of the image. All of the nine realms were present and labelled, each with their own discerning quality. The branches of the tree stretched far and wide into the space that was the eternal, the roots diving into the very depths of Hel, the realm even the Asgardians were wary of. Midgard was there also, suspended in the middle, neither here nor there. Leya knew little of Midgard and its people, though she had heard that they were like Asgardians in form only a lot weaker, and their culture was somewhat similar.

As Leya viewed the vast expanse that formed the tree of life, she wondered if she would ever visit other realms, meet other races on their own soil. She knew of Jotunheim and the frost giants it was home to, and that Thor and his friends had travelled there not long ago, and the realms of the elves, Svartalheim and Alfheim, both well-known sentient races, and even Midgardians were supposed to have intelligence enough to converse intellectually. Maybe if she was lucky, she might one day be granted passage to another realm to see it for herself, and explore. Or maybe she'd be stuck in Asgard forever, remaining a simple serving girl to the end of her days. The latter seemed far more probable, and inwardly she sighed.

"Girl? What are you doing here?" Leya jumped in fright and nearly fell down the stairs, glancing up quickly at the figure who stood in the doorway. Her mouth fell open in recognition and she stumbled down the steps, looking at her feet.

"My lady, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," she blurted, her heart racing. As if to ensure she wasn't seeing things, she looked up briefly.

The woman was aged in appearance, but in a way that added wisdom to her and detracted no beauty. Her hair was golden and lightly curled, held back in a neat bun. She wore clothes that were rich but simple, silver in colour with a wide neck lapping over her shoulders, the skirt flowing gracefully to the ground. Solemn hazel eyes watched Leya thoughtfully, betraying no emotion. Unless Leya was mistaken, this was Frigga, wife of Odin and Queen of Asgard.

"You are Loki's jailer," Frigga walked into the room, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked over Leya, obviously recognising her from the hearing.

"I am, my lady," Leya answered, relieved she didn't have to explain that part. The woman's eyes softened at this,

"How is Loki?" she asked, genuine warmth and concern to her voice.

"He is well, my lady," Leya told her truthfully, "he sent me to fetch a book for him," she gestured the one under her arm. Frigga nodded slowly,

"Thor tells me you are very diligent in your care for Loki. Thank you," she said softly, "it means a lot to me that he is being well-looked after." Leya noted the sadness in her voice, but knew not to pry. Smiling gently, she curtsied as neatly as possible,

"It is a pleasure and an honour to serve your family, my lady." Frigga returned the smile,

"I would dearly love to visit him…but the guards would not allow it." Leya nearly frowned at this, certain that the Queen would be at liberty to visit Loki whenever she wanted to. However, this was obviously not the case from the pained look in her eyes.

"Would you please tell him that I miss him and think of him often?" Frigga asked, her voice low. Leya thought it over quickly, and then nodded,

"I will, my lady." Frigga smiled, her whole face lighting up in pure joy that shone out like the sun itself,

"Thank you." With that, she turned and left, leaving Leya to bob a quick curtsy at her retreating back. Leya left quickly after her, her eyes sweeping the room one last time before she shut the door, the lock clicking into place behind her.

* * *

"My lord, I have your book," Leya announced, standing by the bars of the cell. Loki glanced up at her absently, then noticed the book in her arms and waved a hand. As if taking on a mind of its own, the book wriggled free of Leya and sailed through the bars, landing neatly on the table.

Leya smoothed her skirt and swallowed, wanting to deliver Queen Frigga's message but not wishing to anger Loki; he could think she was disobeying his orders not to give him something he had not requested. Eventually, driven by the memory of Frigga's eyes, Leya took the plunge.

"The Queen found me while I was in your room," Leya began, then paused. Loki seemed not to hear, but she saw him sit up just a little.

"She asked after your health," Leya went on tentatively.

"How is she?" Loki murmured, and could it be there was genuine care in his voice? Hiding her surprise, Leya answered,

"She is well," she took a breath, "and she asked me to tell you that she misses you and thinks of you often." She closed her mouth and watched him carefully, hoping he wouldn't become angry at her. But he didn't move, remaining where he lay on the chaise long, a statue once again; a thoughtful statue, dwelling on wise words.

"Leave me," he suddenly said, flicking his hand at her as one would a fly. Leya bowed her head, trying not to look at him too curiously, before turning and leaving the room as quietly and serenely as possible. Mayhaps she had been mistaken, she thought as she walked, perhaps Loki can feel for others after all.

* * *

The stars were well and truly out and shining by the time Leya left the palace, hurrying home to cook for her father and Rolf. As she ventured further from the palace, the streets became more deserted, but she paid them little attention; very few were out and about in the middle city at this time of night. Her eyes raked the heavens and a smile came to her lips as she marvelled at the stars, highlighted brilliant against the midnight blue of the sky. And the moon, mysterious and wonderful, bathing everything in a silver light. Leya was quite certain that night was her favourite time to be out and about.

As she watched the stars, her mind flicked back to Loki's room and the telescope and star charts she'd seen. He was obviously an avid astronomer, and Leya had heard of many sorcerers taking an interest in astrology as a way to expand their talents.

So absorbed was Leya in the stars, she failed to see the sudden shadow that launched at her from no-where. There was no time for her to even scream as something struck her hard around the head. And then…

All was black.


	11. Intruder Alert

**Ack, haven't updated in a while...sorry :3 On the upside, this chapter's pretty long :P**

**Once again thank you to all the lovely people who've reviewed/followed/favourited this story...you guys make my day :)**

**Now, to resolve that pesky cliffhanger...enjoy!**

Consciousness came to Leya slowly, like an anchor being dragged from the seabed, working it's way through the depths of sentience to reach the surface of life. Pain followed shortly, bursting into her head in a bright firework of red that throbbed and raged. Leya groaned and tried to reach up, only to find her hands restrained. Blinking, she came awake, her surroundings blurring into vision as her mind kicked back up and running, recounting her last memories. Nothing, and then...

Leya's eyes widened. Something had attacked her! She'd been knocked out...and now where was she? There was a damp smell in the air, and as she looked about she realised she was in a cellar. There were stacks of crates scattered about in rough piles, some of them rotting, and the only light came from a grime-laden window, splashing yellow on the floor in faint smudges. Looking up, she saw a trapdoor on the ceiling, the remains of a ladder hanging uselessly from its base. Her clothes were muddy from the dirt ground, and as her senses came alive she smelt something sour, like wine that had been left so long it had turned to vinegar.

A wave of nausea washed over her as she tried to turn and she looked down in an effort to settle her stomach. Closing her eyes, she waited for the pain to subside before opening them again, assessing her position. She was sitting upright against a wooden beam, her hands tied behind her in uncomfortably tight cord. When she pulled at her hands, the cord only bit into her skin, causing her to grimace at the stinging sensation. But other than her hands and head, the rest of her body seemed fine, if a little worse for wear.

Swallowing, she listened for any sound that would indicate where she was, slowing her breathing so she could hear better. The faint noise of city life could be heard from outside the grime-laden window, though it sounded too far away for her to cry for help, and there were no tell-tale noises from above suggesting of someone else in the building; she was alone. Somewhat relieved, Leya began to think about how best to free herself.

Focusing her magic, she coaxed her hands to become flexible and rubber-like, easing them gently from the tight bonds until she was free. Delighted freedom had come so easily, Leya rubbed her hands to restart the blood circulation, leaving the rope tied to the pillar. Slowly, she got to her feet, and frowned at her next problem.

She was free from her bonds, but not free from the cellar itself, and from the looks of it, the broken ladder hadn't been used in a long time, and the trapdoor looked swollen and rotten. Sighing, she looked about her, wondering what she could use to aid her in her escape. Her eyes latched onto the boxes and an idea came to her. Rolling up her sleeves, she prepared to use a bit of elbow grease and set about piling the not-so-rotten boxes on top of one another, making a rudimentary tower that would let her get her hands on the trapdoor.

After poking and shaking the structure a few times, Leya carefully climbed aboard, wincing as her crippled leg protested painfully against the treatmen. With steady movements, she reached for the second box which wobbled precariously. Anxious, but determined, Leya continued to climb until she'd reached the top, planting her feet carefully to maintain her balance as she looked up at the trapdoor.

Putting her hands against it, she gave it an experimental shove. The wood gave a little, but then seemed to give up and fall back into place, like an old donkey too tired to work. Tracing the cut of the door with her finger, Leya guessed there was a bolt keeping the door shut from above, and judging by the hinges it was to her right. Inching over carefully, Leya examined the edge of the door, wondering how to undo the bolt.

Almost instinctively, her magic rose to the surface, like a dog eager to please its master. Leya willed it to her fingertips, pressing them against the cracks, urging it through to undo the bolt. For a moment, there was nothing, and then…a harsh creaking sound, like two pieces of rusty metal being rubbed together. Slowly but surely, she could feel the bolt giving, and a minute later the screeching ended with a click and Leya beamed at her success.

Once more, she put her hands to the trap door and pushed…but it still didn't give. Leya frowned as her mind whirred in thought. There must have been something on top of the door to stop it from opening, and to test her theory she braced herself against it before giving it a strong push. The door opened slightly before the weight overwhelmed her and she wobbled dangerously on the spot to retain her balance.  
Tucking an escaped strand of her behind her ear, Leya sighed in frustration. How was she to move the weight above her? She was certainly no warrior like Lady Sif, and her strength was weak compared to most women. She would soon exhaust herself if she tried to move it manually, if only she was stronger...

Her eyes widened as a thought came to her, and she summoned her magic once again. Pouring it into her hands, she focused on making her limbs stronger, willing her body to cooperate. What felt like hot water spread through her body and she braced once again against the door. Eyes narrowed in determination, she pushed with all her might against the door.

It rose slightly, and continued to rise as she pushed, objects shifting above her and clattering as they fell to the floor above. Leya had nearly raised it upright when her magic failed her and she yelped in surprise as the door came crashing down.

In her shock, she took a step back, flailing in the air before she was sent plummeting to the ground, the crates falling about her in mockery of her downfall. She landed on her back and for a moment lay there winded, looking up at the door which had slammed shut above her. Taking deep breaths, Leya got to her feet, wincing as her back creased in pain; she'd have bruises for sure. Fatigue swept over her, and she blinked rapidly to shake it off, readying herself to try again.

She built the tower once more and climbed up, ignoring her protesting body that begged her to stop and rest. Praying that the odds were in her favour, Leya tentatively pushed the door, hoping it would open. To her surprise, the weight had been significantly decreased, and the trapdoor pushed open with little fuss. Pleased with her efforts, Leya began the arduous task of pulling herself up, puffing and panting as she did and looking not at all like the young lady she was.

Finally, she was free of the cellar and lay on the floor of an abandoned barn, her cheeks red as her body heaved with each breath. Her hands scrabbling against the dusty floor, she pushed herself into a sitting position, closing her eyes to ease the headache that was setting into her with a vengeance.

Free at last, her thoughts turned to other points of interest…like why she'd been knocked out and left in a cellar in the first place? As far as she was aware, she had no real enemies…Ingrid wouldn't go as far as kidnapping her, and neither would any of the other staff members. What would be the point in that anyway? It could have been Gunnar…but she sincerely doubted that; she would know if it had been him. So…who was it?

Leaning against a crate, Leya racked her brains for an answer. It wasn't Ingrid, or Gunnar, or any of the palace staff…or Loki, she added as an afterthought. She frowned at that last thought, her mind backtracking quickly. Loki? Could it have been him? She didn't think so…but why did the thought of him agitate her? Her eyes widened as the pieces fell into place, and she gasped in shock.

"Loki," she breathed to herself, immediately scrambling to get up. She had to make sure he was alright…what if the poisoner had succeeded this time? What if she'd been knocked out so she couldn't intervene? What if…? She didn't dare think ahead, pushing off from the ground and stumbling out of the building.

Daylight blinded her and she realised it was already mid-morning of the next day, meaning she'd been out all night and her father and Rolf would be worried sick. But first, she had to check on Loki.

With faltering steps, she limped away as fast as she could, heading north by the sun's direction, towards the palace. To her relief, the barn she'd been trapped in wasn't too far from the city centre, and only a few leagues from her home. She took a moment to recognise her surroundings and calculate a rough route to the palace; with any luck, she could reach it in 30 minutes. But that still might be 30 minutes too late.

Leya winced as a cramp set into her leg, as if her body was telling her to go slowly, but she couldn't afford that luxury. S tamping out the cramp, she steeled her limbs, and began to hobble.

* * *

By the time she arrived, she was complete mess. Her hair had shaken loose from her bun and half of it flapped around her aimlessly while the other half bounced about on her head in a comical manner. Her clothes were dirty with mud as she'd fallen more than once in her haste, and her brow coated with sweat and grime. Her breath came out in ragged gasps as she wheezed through the palace corridors, ignoring the looks she was getting from those around, only thankful none of them tried to question her.

After what seemed like forever, she reached the chamber, and to her relief, the guards let her in without hesitation. Like a drunkard she staggered into the room, the doors slamming shut behind her.

"My lord!" she cried spontaneously, limping to the bars where she collapsed in a heap. The sight that greeted her was one she had never in all her days imagined herself to witness.

Loki sat calmly on the chaise long, his forehead creased in thought as his chin rested on his hands, his eyes deep and containing a distinct faraway look to them. He seemed perfectly well and unharmed from what she could see, if a little ruffled. Leya followed his gaze to the floor where a figure lay, motionless.

The girl cried out in shock, rearing back as a hand slapped over her mouth to muffle her yell. She blinked, her eyes widening in utter disbelief as she took in the figure's appearance.

It...it was her.

They wore the same dress as she did, the same apron and shoes; they even had the same hair and eyes. It was a perfect replica of her image, down to the pattern of freckles across her nose and square shape of her jaw. There was one key difference, the Leya on the floor...her neck was bent at an odd angle and her eyes were staring straight at the ceiling, lifeless. This Leya was dead.

The Leya outside the bars shook her head violently, choking quietly as she tried her best not to throw up there and then. Taking deep breaths, she tore her gaze from the dead…her and looked up at Loki.

"My lord," she croaked pleadingly, "please..." she trailed off, closing her eyes as tears began to well, her chest heaving as she took a few dry sobs. It couldn't be her, it just couldn't be...could it? There had to be a reason behind this, there just had to be. But the figure before her…it looked so real! Everything about it cried out that it was Leya...and that she was dead. She shook her head, no...no!

Opening her eyes, she glanced up at Loki imploringly, "please…make it go away," she begged him quietly, refusing to look down at the body. Finally, Loki seemed to notice her, his eyes flicking up to meet hers momentarily. He obviously saw the state she was in as his eyebrow quirked in surprise before he gave her a barely perceptible nod.

Rising to his feet, he moved to the body with several smooth steps, bending down to snap something from around the dead Leya's neck before returning to his seat. He examined the object he'd obtained before tossing it carelessly to the Leya outside the cell. It clattered to the floor at her feet and the serving girl picked it up, her curiosity getting the better of her. It was a necklace, but it was unlike any necklace she'd seen. It was oval in shape with strange rune-like markings carved over its surface, and there seemed to be a clip. Running her thumb over the switch, she jumped in surprise as the oval split in half, revealing itself to be a locket. Inside, to her extreme surprise, she found...a lock of her own hair.

"That is a very powerful magical artefact," Loki muttered in answer to her questioning look, "it enables the wearer to take on the shape and form of whatever creature's remains lie at its heart. Look," he gestured the body, and Leya followed his gaze. Her eyes widened yet again and she moved forward without thinking.

The figure on the floor, it wasn't her any more. It had dark grey skin, and a wide, rounded skull, with broad shoulders and enormous feet and hands. Runes of some kind were drawn all over its body, its only modesty coming in the form of a loin cloth and belt. It had a large mouth that hung loosely, displaying sharp canine-like teeth, and its small eyes were empty and lifeless. Leya breathed out slowly, trying to calm her racing heart; it wasn't her, it was just something that had looked like her. Relieved, she took another breath, feeling her panic begin to fade as her curiosity rose.

With another glance at Loki, she saw he had returned to his thoughtful position, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"My lord," she began, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat to begin again, "my lord...what is that?" she asked delicately. For a moment, Loki said nothing and Leya wondered if he was deliberately ignoring her.

"That is a Warrior Mage of the Chitauri race," he muttered quietly, almost to himself. Leya's surprise grew,

"A Chitauri?" she echoed, sure she had heard the name somewhere. Then she remembered, at Loki's hearing...something about him having an alliance with them. "I thought they were your allies," she blurted. Her mouth clamped shut as Loki turned to look at her, his eyes dark and foreboding.

"I have no allies," he murmured, his voice cutting like a knife. Leya swallowed and her eyes flicked down to the dead Mage. A moment of quiet ensued, and then,

"Are you hurt?" Leya asked the floor, though the question was directed at Loki. She sensed Loki shift slightly and glanced up to see a brief look of amusement flash across his face,

"Not at all," he nearly scoffed, as if humoured by the idea that he could be injured. Leya smiled hesitantly at his reaction, but then his eyes turned on her, dark once more, and the smile evaporated like water under his searing gaze. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice demanding and almost accusatory. Leya frowned ever so slightly, feeling a little wounded by his tone, as if he was blaming her for everything that had happened.

"I was attacked on my way home last night and knocked out," she explained, "I woke up in the cellar of an abandoned barn. I freed myself and came here as fast as I could."

"Evidently not fast enough," Loki muttered under his breath, and Leya's frown deepened.

"My lord, I am truly sorry for what has happened," she went on, looking him squarely for just a moment so he would know she spoke honestly. She abruptly broke contact and stared at the floor, her feelings conflicted as she fought the unnecessary shame Loki had placed upon her; she had done all she could, why did he feel the need to place the blame on her? Could he not be a little more sympathetic?

"No matter," her head rose at Loki's voice and she found him staring at the body, "what's done is done." Without warning he threw his hand over the body and Leya yelped in surprise as it burst into emerald flames, greedily devouring the body with an abnormal speed, burning it to ash before her very eyes. With another lazy gesture, the ashes were gone, and no trace of the body remained.

Leya remained seated by the bars, hiccupping quietly as Loki turned to her, brow creased in thought. "You are hurt," he stated, taking in her state and deducing the obvious. Leya nodded weakly,

"During my escape I bruised my back and hands," she told him. Loki crooked a finger at her,

"Come here." Leya bit her lip and glanced towards the chamber door...how had no-one noticed two of her in the palace? The mage must have entered somehow, and in her disguise, it would seem. Then she realised, almost bitterly, that few people even noticed one of her on a good day...so why should they notice two?

Loki snapped his fingers, obviously impatient, and Leya obediently got to her feet, pulling herself upright, using the bars as support. She swayed slightly, fatigue pulling her down like a weight on her shoulders. All her efforts of the morning had drained her energy, and she could barely keep her eyes open. Batting aside her tiredness, she called on her magic to aid her through the bars. She should have known it would be too much, as the moment her foot pulled free, her body seemed to shut down as fatigue swept over her heavily, and she felt herself begin to fall. Her mind wanted to react, but her body was too weary, so she could only watch as the cold ground rushed to meet her. Before she hit the stone floor, she felt herself jerk back as strong arms wrapped around her, steadying her.

"What have you done?" Loki's voice hissed in her ear, and she flinched ever so slightly at the irritated tone in his voice. Before she could reply, he guided her to the chaise long and which she promptly fell , her head sagging against the head rest. It was like she had no control over her body, while her mind inwardly panicked over her sudden weakness, not hesitating to remind her that she was at the mercy of a murderer. Through heavy eyelids she saw Loki crouch before her, his brow furrowed in...was that concern? No, it couldn't be...her eyes were playing tricks on her.

In an attempt to preserve her energy, she closed her eyes, seeking refuge in the dark. Maybe if she fell asleep she would wake up to find it had all been a terrible dream, if only she could rest a moment. But her wish was not granted as cool fingers hooked under her chin, pulling her face up.

"Look at me," came the order, and she blinked blearily, finding herself staring into the calculating eyes of the God of Magic. She tried to open her mouth to apologise for the state she was in, but to her dismay, and embarrassment, all that came out was a loud yawn.

"You've used too much magic at once," he muttered, "and your body can't compensate for the energy loss." Leya managed a small frown at this, never before having experienced such a drain. Then again, she had never used so much magic in such a short space of time, and that spell she'd used to lift the trapdoor had obviously taken more energy than she'd anticipated.

"Sorry," the word came out as a mumbled slur, but she could tell Loki had heard her from the way he gave her a strange look, as if she were deranged. Closing her eyes, Leya tried to find peace once again. The fingers left her chin, and her head fell against the headrest, sleep beckoning to her like an old friend.

She knew she shouldn't fall asleep in here, of all places, but alas...she was already falling, and she knew no more.

* * *

When Leya awoke, her first thought was that she must still be in bed and everything that had happened had simply been a bad dream. She was quite content to stay within this happy dream world, until she realised that she wasn't in her bed, and it hadn't been a dream. Her eyes snapped open.

She winced as light blinded her momentarily and she closed her eyes against the glare. Opening them once more, they widened in shock as she remembered that she'd fallen asleep in Loki's cell...on his chaise long! Her cheeks reddened in shame; what must he think of her? Her head throbbed in answer, her body concurring none too gently. More hair had fallen from her bun and she absently let it loose, flicking it up into a fresh bun as she struggled to stop her vision swimming. A frown creased her brow as she thought...was all she remembered real? Had she really seen a version of herself lying dead on the floor?!

"Ah, you're awake," she glanced up as Loki closed the book he'd been reading. Kicking back off his chair, he came over to her with a goblet, "drink this," he ordered. Wordlessly, Leya took the cup and sipped it, feeling the liquid slide down her throat. It tasted horrible, like sour apples, but she obediently drained every drop, suppressing a shudder. To her surprise, as she finished the drink a wave of magic seemed to sweep over her, soothing her aches and pains, filling her with energy and waking her up completely.

"Thank you," she handed the goblet back to Loki, "my lord," she added quickly. Loki smirked, and the goblet disappeared,

"You're welcome," he told her drily. Leya's brow furrowed and she looked up at him, but quickly turned her eyes to the ground when she met his eyes.

"My lord, I must apologise for falling asleep at such a time," she murmured to her feet. Loki waved his hand dismissively,

"You are inexperienced and weak, it is not surprising your strength gave out as it did." Leya's head fell, and in spite of herself, she sighed heavily; would he ever stop insulting her? Was this how she would always be...the butt of his jokes, the target of his sharp, silver tongue? With a start, she realised he wasn't saying anything, and she flicked her eyes up to see him watching her with an eyebrow quirked, as if amused by her reaction. Quickly, she dropped her gaze, blushing.

"My lord, I should leave," she mumbled.

"No," Loki shook his head, reclaiming his seat "not yet." Leya blinked in surprise, looking at him curiously,

"My lord?" The God glanced up at her, his eyes sharp,

"You want to tell others of this...event, I know, but you must not. I forbid it." Leya opened her mouth, then closed it; did he honestly expect her to keep her silence after what had happened? The poisoning had been one thing, but this...someone had actually got into his cell firsthand! She was officially in way over her head.

"My lord..." she began, seeking to reason with him.

"I forbid it," Loki hissed violently. Leya's brow furrowed, and she studied him briefly. There was a cold steel look in his eyes, and the edges seemed tinted with a fever, as if he were a little unhinged. Combined with the knowledge that he was a murderer of the innocent, Leya could only come to the conclusion that he was a psycopath. And yet, this did not frighten her in the way that it should; mayhaps she was so used to his ways that this new realisation was almost petty. Swallowing carefully, she locked gazes with him briefly,

"Why?" the word was quiet on her tongue, barely above a whisper. Loki's eyes narrowed,

"What?"

"Why?" Leya repeated, a little louder, "why do you forbid it?" she added softly. Dark mirth sparkled in Loki's eyes,

"You cannot even begin to understand why, little girl."

"I'm 19," Leya retorted without thinking. Loki raised an eyebrow, and she felt the need to clarify, "I'm not a little girl," she murmured, but even as she spoke she felt her cheeks betray her in a deep blush, and her voice wavered slightly. Loki chuckled once,

"You are but a child, even by Midgardian standards," he told her, almost gently, "how could you possibly understand the workings of the adult world?" Leya's lips thinned and she bit her tongue to keep herself from making a harsh reply; Asgardians may be long-lived, and she would live for at least a century, but even in her youth she felt more mature and aged than some citizens ten times her age.

"With all due respect, my lord, you do not know what I do and do not understand," she spoke politely, civilly, wincing inwardly at the trace of steel in her voice that she couldn't shake, "I may be young, but please do not make assumptions of me simply based on my youth." Loki tilted his head to the side, his eyes thoughtful as he watched her a moment, as if judging her as a work of art and finding her displeasing but still mildly interesting.

"So you will not keep my secret," he muttered, his gaze hardening as he cast it about the chamber. Leya sat up a little straighter,

"No, my lord," she replied, "not this time." Loki sighed, his irritation evident,

"Why must you be so stubborn, girl?" he snapped. Leya looked at him incredulously; _he_ was calling _her_ stubborn? Her mouth twitched slightly in amusement. "What are you smirking at?" he snapped again, obviously seeing her smile. Wiping the expression from her face, Leya swallowed nervously, fidgeting with her skirt,

"Nothing, my lord." There was a pause as she debated in her mind what would happen next. She could see the calculating look in his eyes, and she knew he'd be weighing up every option as she was, and while she remained outwardly optmistic he would consent to her reporting on this incident, her inward pessimism still whispered in her ear.

"Then you leave me no choice," Loki muttered, rising to his feet and tugging his shirt down. At once, Leya was on her guard, pulling away almost instinctively as he approached her, stopping but a foot from where she sat.

"My lord?" she asked cautiously, eyeing him warily.

"I will wipe your mind of this event," the God told her simply in a blunt tone, "it is the simplest, and most effective way to ensure your silence." Leya's mouth fell open in shock and she recoiled, her back hitting the wall as her eyes widened, the whites flashing in fear.

"My lord, no!" she cried, "you cannot!"

"What would you have me do?" Loki asked her calmly, "I would have wiped the previous incident from your mind if it had not been so minor. I cannot ignore that this incident is far more incriminating, not to mention your direct involvement has caused...complications. You will not let me silence you again, and your sense of duty and loyalty are too strong for your own good," he smirked at this, mocking her with her virtues. Leya felt her cheeks redden once more and her upper lip stiffened in defense.

"My lord," she began strongly, "I must protest." Loki rolled his eyes in despair,

"I would expect nothing less," he muttered, "but again, you can do nothing to stop me." Leya's shoulders slumped as she registered the truth in his words, and the hard look in her eyes; he was determined to wipe her mind, but that didn't mean she had to lie down and take it. She swallowed, choking slightly on the lump in her throat,

"Then I believe I have a right to know why you are being targeted, and why you refuse to let me send for help." For a moment, she thought he might strike her for her insolence, and she certainly saw the thought flicker across his gaze, his eye twitching in anger. However, he let it pass, and shrugged slightly,

"Why should I bother to impart knowledge that will be forgotten?"

"Indulge me," Leya asked, daring to look him in the eye for a brief second. Loki laughed,

"I have long known there is more to you than a weak, crippled serving girl, but I did not expect defiance to be a trait of yours." Leya's eyes fell to her lap where her fingers played with her skirt, she didn't mean to be defiant, she was just...upset. So would anyone in her situation, helpless as she was before a man infinitely stronger than herself in almost every way.

"My lord, forgive me..." she started to apologise, but Loki stopped her with a wave of his hand.

"No matter, it will be forgotten in a moment," he smiled that cat-like smile of his, and Leya sighed inwardly, "however..." she looked up at him expectantly, "since I am in an amiable mood, I will answer your questions." Leya barely had time to look surprised before he went on, "I am being targeted for my failure to conquer Midgard and complete the task assigned me, and I will not let you send for help because I do not need it." He must have seen the skeptical look in her eyes because he chuckled darkly, "I speak truly, I do not need help because there is no-one in all of Asgard who could help me. Not even Thor or the Allfather. And I will not crawl to them for help only to find they cannot aid me and I am all the more weaker for it," he practically spat the last part, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Leya could see a number of flaws in his replies, but knew not to raise them; Loki was a proud, dignified, independent soul, and asking for help would be insufferable. She could understand his pride, his dignified manner, and his independence, but if only he wasn't so stubborn he could ask for help and still keep all three intact. If Loki relinquished his dignity and gave into reason, he would find life easier for himself and those around him, and yet she knew in her heart he would never give in, and would go down with his head held high above all others if need be. She sighed to herself, remembering something her father said, _'dignity is bestowed';_ if only Loki knew this.

"Are you satisfied?" the God's voice broke her from her thoughts and she glanced up at him to find him staring at her intently. Leya opened her mouth slightly, grasping at straws,

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to silence me with another simple spell?" she murmured, her voice almost hopeful. Loki smiled, almost sympathetically, but he was also patronising her, she could tell,

"No, we both know it would not work," he told her softly. Leya's shoulders sagged and she barely kept from rolling her eyes; he was right, she'd try everything in her power to tell someone of the Chitauri Mage, whatever the cost. And Loki would never let her do that. If only he would listen to her! Could he not see that he had nothing to gain from her silence, and everything to lose?!

"What if I arrive one day to find you dead?" she sounded for all the realm like a lost child, confused and scared. A shadow passed over her and delicate fingers brushed a strand of hair from her eyes,

"That will not happen, you have my word." Leya would have loved to believe him, really she would, but he was a God of Lies, and his word was as twisted as a coiled serpent. Cool fingers touched her temple and he eyes widened in shock, she wasn't prepared! He could have at least warned her, given her time to ready herself, to try and fight the inevitable...

But she would never win, he was just too strong.

All was dark.

* * *

"Girl," there was a sharp tap on her cheek, "girl, wake up." Leya flinched, frowning as she jerked awake, blinking sleepily. Where was she? That voice, it sounded familiar...

Another sharp tap and she realised her other cheek was pressed up against something cold, and metal. Opening her eyes, she saw gold and recoiled in shock, her surroundings sharpening as her situation dawned on her. Memory returned in a foggy haze...bringing Loki's lunch, retrieving the breakfast tray...falling asleep against the bars to his cell! How could she have been so careless?!

Blushing furiously, she scrambled to her feet, stammering apologies to the God who didn't even glance at her, falling gracefully onto the chaise long where he commenced his staring at the ceiling. Leya hastily scooped his breakfast tray of the floor, bobbing a curtsy before turning to leave. Something made her turn back at the door, her brow furrowed as she felt as if there was something she'd forgotten. For a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw something lying on the floor in Loki's cell, a ghostly figure of brown and blue, but the she blinked and it was gone.

Shaking her head, Leya clutched the tray to her, and made for the kitchens.

**I'm finding there's a rather delicate balance in Loki and Leya's relationship, since Loki is so damn unpredictable and moody...rather like my brother xD However, I hope I do him justice...I try and write him as realistically as possible and I do genuinely think he would wipe someone's memory if it benefited him...!**

**Here's hoping Leya manages to stay out of trouble from now on (HA! Yeah right!) and continue her normal life (as if...) while balancing Loki's bitch attitude (no comment) and her own problems :P**

**As always, please review...they make me happy :)**

**Best wishes,**

**Magic x**


	12. AUTHOR'S NOTE - GUYS, HELP MEPLEASE

**Hey guys,**

**Um, basically...I have a dilemma. I really ****_really_**** want to continue this FanFiction, I love writing it and Leya is one of the best OC's I've created in a long time and I seriously want her and Loki to build up their relationship thing, but I've felt like I've rushed it so far and it isn't as good as I know it could be. So, I would like your opinion...should I continue this as it is (with minor editing) or restart afresh with a concrete plot and more centered storyline?**

** If I restarted, it would be the same characters and everything, but more focused and developed (Sigyn literally walked in while I was writing but I've actually developed bigger plans for her, and Leya's childhood friends were also going to be included more). Also, I've now seen both trailers for Thor 2, and once I stopped hyperventilating I realised how much material there was to work with and started getting new ideas and things. And, on top of that, Asgard is such a magnificent, vast place that I really need to do it more justice, and so rewriting would give me a chance to paint a new picture. So...yeah. **

**I'm sorry I'm so indecisive, I've done exactly the same with my Star Trek FanFiction...but all I can say is...sorry! But, you are my readers and I want only the best for you, and so I will go where you point me, so please, review with your thoughts and I shall take my cue from you.**

**Many thanks, and either way, I hope you enjoy my story!**

**Magic x**


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